


darling

by rainbowens



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Powerful Women, Secret Crush, Soft Peter Parker, Unrequited Crush, cute nicknames, warning: attempted sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 35,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowens/pseuds/rainbowens
Summary: "the danger didn't matter to wendy carter-greene until she was smack dab in the middle of it."





	1. danger!

It started in sixth grade.

Midtown Middle School held its annual talent show, encouraging students to demonstrate their unique skills. As always, the 2013 edition was full of mediocre singing and kids who were only on stage because of a dare. Wendy Carter-Greene was the second-to-last act of the night. The stage lights dimmed and soft classical music filled the air.

It was then Wendy delivered a stellar performance that still followed her four years later.

Wendy had always enjoyed dance. She began ballet when she was three. When she was five, she began to explore different types of dance. It was her thing. She was the dance and gymnastics girl. Whenever the class had a bit of a free session, everyone asked her to show her flexible she was. She delighted and disgusted many over the years with her contortion tricks.

The Midtown Middle School talent show was a big deal to Wendy. She had a bit of a reputation to uphold. Everyone agreed she was guaranteed to win. That didn't stop Wendy from pouring hours of work into a ballet-meets-hip-hop routine set to Lady Gaga's Telephone (featuring Beyonce.) She wanted it to be amazing.

And it was.

She received a standing ovation from every member of the audience. There really was nothing quite like watching a 4'3" girl do a series of aerials while Lady Gaga sings. Wendy felt like she was on top of the world. It truly seemed as if she had it in the bag.

Until Peter Parker stepped onto the stage and timidly recited _forty numbers of pi._

If you asked anyone, the judges were totally biased. Two of them were math teachers, one of whom was known in the school for her love of pi. Wendy liked to believe that bias was the only reason Peter Parker won first place in that stupid talent show. She was bitter, sure, but she quickly got over it. She had to admit his recitation was pretty impressive. However, it wasn't soon after that she began to notice a pattern.

Suddenly, she was always second place to Peter Parker.

First, it was some silly test review game in science class. Then it was marching band, followed by academic competitions, followed by bus rides. She was always just a point or two behind, or she missed one note he hit, or she wrote a bit slower than him, or the route just happened to be crafted so Peter was dropped off before her even though she lived closer to the school. It was infuriating.  Peter Parker was somehow just naturally better than her. No matter how much work she put into something, he was better.

For a year or two, she told herself it wasn't his fault. She repeated the phrase like a mantra until she attended a photography contest and received second place. First place was Peter Parker.

It was then she became convinced he was after her, that he was doing this all on purpose. Photography had evolved into one of her things. Everyone knew that. Since when was Peter Parker into photography? He must have just taken it up so he could beat her at something else.

Everyone else thought he was so sweet and kind and innocent, but Wendy knew the truth. He was an asshole who was determined to make her life hell. His cute puppy dog appearance was just a mask to lure you in, give you a false sense of security. By eighth grade, Wendy was done falling for his little act.

Wendy's parents assured her he would get his comeuppance, that one day she'd be freed of him, but high school came and there he was again, sitting next to her in honors geometry. He always asked her if she needed help. God, he was so condescending. She could tell she made him nervous, though. She liked that, knowing she filled him with fear.

The pattern held. Peter Parker always one-upped her. He beat her out just the tiniest bit for the student decathlon team. Her science fair projects were never as good as his. Shit, even when her great-great-aunt passed away, the school social-sphere quickly moved on from consoling her to congratulating Peter Parker on his new internship with Tony Stark. She was broken and hurting and no one gave a shit because perfect Peter Parker proved he was better than everyone else once again.

So, really, she supposed this all made sense. All of the competitions and contests had led up to this moment. This moment of her surrounded on all sides by unfamiliar men with panic-inducing glints in their eyes and the flashing lights from the neon signs in the store windows hitting their gaunt faces in just the right way to make them look absolutely demonic. This moment of her armed with nothing but her small fists and a non-functional can of mace. She had told herself time and time again that she'd do anything to triumph over Peter Parker, and this bet they made, this challenge he swore he never initiated, was basically a death warrant. She knew that going in.

The danger didn't matter to Wendy Carter-Greene. It was the prize she yearned for that mattered. As long as she got to see the look on Peter Parker's face when she told him she won, she'd put herself through hell and back. She was a stubborn little girl who grew up with the idea that when the world tells you to move, you plant your feet. So the danger didn't matter to Wendy Carter-Greene. It didn't matter until she was stranded by herself on a street she'd never been down before even in the light of day with no around for miles who could possibly help her.

The danger didn't matter to Wendy Carter-Greene until she was smack dab in the middle of it.


	2. thwip!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "by daylight, she'd be dead or worse."
> 
> trigger warning: attempted sexual assault

Even Wendy had to admit this was partially her fault. Or maybe it was Liz Allan's. Or Ned Leeds's. All she knew was that the majority of the blame rested on Peter Parker.

It all started in gym class last week when Ned blurted out that Peter knew Spider-Man. Wendy had scoffed and continued with her stretching. She knew in her heart it was some convoluted lie dreamt up to impress Liz, who was beautiful and kind and saw the good in everyone, even Peter, whom Wendy loathed. Still, when she heard the news Spider-Man was set to attend Liz's next party, she couldn't help but get her hopes up.

That party was her second party ever and it was kind of hell. Spider-Man never even showed up. Wendy wasn't all that surprised. She probably could've mostly let it go if that party wasn't an absolutely traumatic experience for her, but it was and so she was pissed. She only went to the stupid party because she was promised a real-life superhero and instead she received endless nightmares.

So when they all returned to school on Monday, Wendy made sure she was vocal about her disappointment but lack of surprise. "I can't believe I let myself think it for a second," she had spat at Peter during lunch with the whole room watching them. "Of course Spider-Man wouldn't waste his time on someone like you."

Peter had scoffed and shot back, "Oh, and he'd be friends with you?"

"Is that a challenge, Parker?" she'd snapped and from that point forward it was on. She had two weeks to win the bet. If she won, Peter would have to publicly admit defeat as well as perform a short poem detailing Wendy's best qualities. If Peter won, Wendy had to go on a date with him, which was Ned's suggestion because Peter couldn't think of anything he wanted from her. Wendy gagged every time she thought about being somewhere private with Peter for more than thirty seconds.

She couldn't lose. Not again. Wendy was famous in the school for many things, one of which was her astute ability to win every bet issued. (She was also famous for her cheerleading status, one-handed-cartwheel record, and hating Peter Parker.) She wasn't about to let some jackass who had, mind you, already obliterated her previous reputations, demolish this one too. Wendy refused to let Peter take everything away from her.

She wondered what her parents would say when they found out. Her friends would probably tell them that she was only out that night to win that stupid bet, which wasn't true. She'd went to her third party ever to get her mind off the bet and off Peter, whose hair was always windswept nowadays and had definitely bulked up since last year, not that she'd noticed for any reasons other than developing a strategy to take him down. It was really just a coincidence that the night had gone like this, with her rather drunk and about to be stabbed and/or robbed and/or raped and/or kidnapped and/or drugged and/or killed or all of the above.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here."

They were frat boys, she observed. There were five of them and two of them were lettermen jackets. One wore an NYU sweatshirt. The other two were dressed in plain clothing that gave no indication as to who they were. All five of them were drunk. Well, six, really, if she was including herself. Everyone involved in this mess had had a few drinks.

She was so screwed.

"Look at her," NYU Sweatshirt chuckled. "She's a cheerleader."

Of all times to be approached by strange men late at night, she just had to be wearing her cheerleader's uniform. Logically, she knew it didn't matter what she was wearing. The situation would play out the same way. Still, maybe if she wasn't a cheerleader she never would've gone to that game and so she never would've been at that party and so she wouldn't be stumbling home at two in the morning.

"I've had a really long day," Wendy blurted. "I just wanna go home, please."

"Can we come with?" Shorter Letterman Jacket asked and the whole group crowed like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her biceps with her hands in a futile attempt to create some warmth.

Graphic Tee smirked. "Need some help warming up?"

"I'm good, I just wanna go home," she reiterated. She'd learned once that sometimes if someone wasn't listening to your request or your argument, you just had to keep repeating yourself until they understood. It's called the broken record method. She knew the chances of it working were abysmal. These men were not just going to leave her alone.

"What's your name, pretty lady?" Graphic Tee inquired, moving closer. She stumbled back, but that only brought her towards Taller Letterman Jacket.

"Chloe," she lied. "Please, I-"

Polo Shirt cut her off with a wolf whistle. "Chloe the cheerleader. And you go to Midtown?"

"Midtown High School, yes." It probably wasn't the greatest idea to tell these guys what school she attended, but maybe they didn't realize she was underage. Maybe they thought she was a college kid like them. Maybe they would back off.

They didn't.

"The girls weren't as hot as you when I was in high school," Shorter Letterman Jacket said and apparently his friends found that hilarious. "I bet you're breaking all the boys' hearts."

"Not really," she replied, forcing some laughter. "I'm not allowed to date. Too young." The emphasis on her age meant nothing.

"Young, inexperienced, hot," Polo Shirt listed, licking his thin lips. "You're just our type, Chloe. Maybe we can show you the ropes, right boys?" The entire group giggled. Wendy didn't know what to do. She knew if she tried to run they'd catch her. She knew if she resisted they'd laugh. Her heart hammered in her chest. She had no options.

"I should be getting home, my dad's probably worried sick," she told them.

Taller Letterman shushed her and in the blink of an eye, grabbed her from behind. He pulled her flush to him, his face in the crook of her neck. He spoke just loud enough for his friends to hear. "Don't mention your dad, sweetheart. It's a buzzkill."

Wendy was out of time. She could not logic her way out of this. In fact, there was no way out of this. By daylight, she'd be dead or worse. She closed her eyes and reserved herself to her fate when a quiet noise caught her attention.

_Thwip!_


	3. holy shit!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "tonight was truly amazing"

Wendy's eyes widened. She recognized that _thwip_. She'd heard it thousands of times in grainy videos shot on phones, the camera zoomed in to catch a look at the man in red and blue. Her heartbeat ricocheted throughout her entire body as she began to search the rooftops for a glimpse. The frat boys must've heard it too because their heads were turning every which way. Taller Letterman Jacket's grip on her tightened in anticipation of a fight.

The _thwip_ sounded again, but much closer. All six ducked instinctively. Then, in the blink of an eye, he landed in the center of their circle. He wore a new suit that clung to him like a second skin. His goggles had been replaced with black and white eye-shaped patches that reacted to his eyelid movements. This new suit seemed to be quite the upgrade.

Wendy couldn't help but notice that it also made his ass look fantastic.

Spider-Man turned to face her and squinted. "Well, this doesn't look consensual." Wendy attempted to throw herself forward, but Taller Letterman Jacket wasn't planning on letting go any time soon. Instead of freeing herself, it seemed she freed her arms from their sockets. Joy. She cried out in pain as Taller Letterman Jacket wretched her back towards him.

"We're just having a bit of fun," Graphic Tee chuckled. "No problem here, Mr. Spider-Man."

Wendy finally found her voice. "Help me. Please." Spider-Man shot her a wink and shot a web into Taller Letterman Jacket's face. Taller Letterman Jacket stumbled back with a shriek, attempting to pry the web off of him but only becoming further entangled in the process. Graphic Tee and Polo Shirt ran forward to help their friend but within seconds, they were glued to the nearest brick wall. Shorter Letterman Jacket ran but couldn't escape before Spider-Man webbed him to a lamppost. NYU Sweatshirt attempted to sneak away but was easily dispatched with a web that pinned him to the concrete sidewalk.

Wendy watched the scuffle in a mixture of awe and scientific fascination. Watching Spider-Man fight was quite the experience. It seemed so effortless for him. She wondered what kind of training he underwent in order to learn how to best use his abilities. When all of the men were incapacitated and he'd written his signature note, he hurried to her side and scanned her for injuries.

"Are you okay?" Spider-Man asked. Wendy nodded quickly but seemed unable to speak. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "What's your name?"

"Wendy," she answered. Her voice shook. She tried to stifle a sob. Her vision grew blurrier no matter how many tears she blinked away. A cry caught in her throat and she threw herself into Spider-Man's arms. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight.

"You're safe now," he whispered. He held her until she ran out of tears. His shoulder was soaked. She blushed and cleared her throat. Great. She had just snotted all over her favorite superhero. Tonight was truly amazing.

Spider-Man's hands stayed on her shoulders as if keeping her steady. "Do you need a ride home?" She bobbed her head. Her sensories were overloaded. She could barely think. Her train of thought consisted mostly of, _Holy shit!_

"Hold onto me," he advised. Wendy didn't hesitate in securing her arms around his waist. She was suddenly struck with the realization that Spider-Man was ripped. She could feel his muscles through his suit.

Wendy realized he was waiting. He was waiting for her to give the okay. She smiled and squeezed him slightly. "I'm holding on." She wondered what his face looked like underneath his mask. What was he thinking about-

HOLY SHIT THEY'RE FLYING!

A gasp escaped Wendy. She clung to him desperately and buried her face in her shoulder. This was a terrible idea. Wendy hated heights. Spider-Man kept one arm around her as he swung them through the air. As they went, she kept finding more problems. 

For instance, it was absolutely freezing and all Wendy had on was her cheerleader uniform. It was also nauseating. She was almost definitely going to hurl when she got home. Additionally, it was a lot like being on a rollercoaster. She hated rollercoasters. She told herself if she survived this trip, it was proof she had nothing to be afraid of. She decided to think of this as extreme exposure therapy.

"Uh, where am I going?" Spider-Man screamed over the air whipping past them.

"Brooklyn," she yelled back. "Three blocks South from Midtown High." She gathered all the courage within her short body and looked down. The streets were actually starting to look familiar.

A laugh pushed past Wendy's lips. She threw her head back and let out a weird guttural sound that she knew meant she was actually kind of enjoying herself. Spider-Man joined in her celebratory exclamations until they reached her block.

He landed them on the roof of a brick building that Wendy knew housed a lawyer's private practice. She stumbled a bit when her feet touched the ground, but he held her steady. Her hair was a complete mess and she was sure a decent amount of people caught a glimpse of her panties.

She wondered if he'd think she was insane if she asked to go around the block one more time.

"Which building?" Spider-Man questioned. She pointed across the road and a little bit down the street to a tall brownstone wedged between a cafe and a pharmacy.

"There's a fire escape outside my bedroom window on the second floor," she shared, unable to stop grinning. She was quick to latch onto him once more. It took two swings to land on her fire escape.

Wendy stepped back from the man in red and blue and took a seat on her windowsill. "Thank you, Spider-Man. I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"You don't have to repay me," he chuckled. "I'm a hero, it's what I do. You know what, though, you can do me a favor."

"What?" she inquired cautiously. She was extremely grateful, yes, but she wasn't going to give him a blowjob if that's what he was going for.

He touched her shoulder. "Stay out of trouble."

"It's not like I went out looking for trouble," she argued with an eye roll.

Sheepishly, he said, "I know, but maybe wandering down dark streets by yourself in the middle of the night isn't the greatest idea." She must've been exhausted because this elicited a hearty chuckle from her. It wasn't even funny. Maybe it just finally sunk in how absolutely absurd this was, that she'd just been saved by a man in a red and blue jumpsuit who then brought her home by way of web-slinging.

"Be careful, Spider-Man," she said. Her voice was so quiet, she wasn't sure if he heard her at first. He laughed in response. She ducked her head bashfully (and to hide a bright red blush) and just like that, he was gone.


	4. hey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "god, she loved this."

 

Wendy spent a lot of time in her own head.

She thought of it as her curse. She was intelligent and agile and flexible and talented. She learned new skills fairly quickly and she was aware she was rather pretty. She had great skin and her family was well off.

On the other hand, her communication skills were absolute shit. She was horrendous at social interactions. It wasn't that she had particularly bad social anxiety. She was quiet and awkward. She could never find the right words. Thus, she chose to keep her speaking to a minimum and invested more time in her thoughts. Wendy was only ever loud when cheerleading.

Or when arguing with Peter Parker.

So while others might've screamed and told the world that they met Spider-Man, Wendy kept it to herself. She didn't even tell her best friends.

"She's doing it again," Erin said. She and Angie were cheerleaders like Wendy. Margot and MJ were the only ones in their group who weren't on the squad. The five of them sat now at their usual lunch table.

Angie flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Is it just me or is it worse today?"

"I can hear you," Wendy spoke, her gaze trained on her yogurt.

"Then act like it," Margot teased, nudging the blonde with her elbow. The Latina threw her arm around Wendy's shoulders. "You okay, kid? You look shaken up."

"I'm fine," Wendy lied. She hadn't gotten any sleep last night. She couldn't stop thinking about the difference between Taller Letterman Jacket's hold on her and Spider-Man's arm around her waist.

MJ narrowed her eyes. "Bullshit. Did something happen last night?"

Wendy shook her head. "No, I swear. I was just thinking about this fanfic I read last night-"

"If it wasn't the Supergirl fic I sent you, I don't want to hear it," Margot interjected. Wendy giggled. Margot was always sending her links to fanfics that usually centered around LGBT+ ships. They were always well-written, so she didn't mind.

The blonde girl shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mar. I was in a Harry Potter mood."

"Nerds," Angie fake-coughed into her fist.

MJ scoffed. "Like you don't spend your nights reading smutty Vampire Diaries fics." The other girls laughed. If anyone that wasn't in their group made that joke, they'd be planning a murder. 

Angie pouted. "Damn. I feel exposed." She sighed and remained graceful in the face of her friends' giggles. "Are you sure you're good, Wen? Did you get home okay?"

"Yeah," Wendy replied and she was really only half-lying. She got home safe...eventually.

Erin frowned. "You know we're here for you, right?" Wendy bobbed her head vigorously. Her friends exchanged looks. They didn't believe her. They knew her too well.

Margot cleared her throat, sensing this conversation wasn't heading anywhere. "So, how you planning on winning your bet with Peter?" She gestured to the boy who sat a few feet down with her head. 

Wendy shrugged. Really, she already won. But she knew the consequences of broadcasting what happened last night to the whole school. Maybe she could get Peter alone and tell him then. It was the safest bet.

She waited for sixth period. That was when they had robotics together. When he asked to go to the bathroom, she waited a minute to ask to go too. Their robotics teacher was fairly lenient so she was out within seconds.

She waited by the boys' bathroom for Peter to come out. She felt absolutely ridiculous. She just wanted to get it done and over with. The sooner the bet was won, the sooner she could move on and lock away everything that happened into a little box and tuck it away in the darkest recesses of her mind. It wasn't the healthiest plan, but she wasn't sure what else she could do. Tell her parents? Get a therapist? Go to the cops? Say, "Hey, these guys tried to rape me last night but Spider-Man interrupted and then we swung through the air and he took me home."

Wendy checked her watch, a gift from her great-great aunt. It'd been five minutes and Peter had yet to come out of the bathroom. She furrowed her brow. How long did it to take for him to piss? She noticed a boy approaching. She couldn't remember his name for the life of her, but she still waved at him like he was an old friend.

"Hey, could you check if Peter Parker is in there for me?" she asked sweetly. "Mr. Spotnik wants him back in class." The boy nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. About a minute later, he poked his head out.

"No one's in here," the boy announced before ducking back inside. Wendy frowned. She did a quick sweep of the girls' bathroom (she had to admit there was a lot she didn't know about Peter) but came up empty. Did he go to the bathroom across the school? That wasn't like him. A frustrated sigh escaped her as she trekked back to class. She'd just have to track him down later.

When the final bell rung, she ran out of class and headed straight for Peter's locker, which just so happened to be across the hall from hers. She leaned on the blue door, arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was bound in a messy bun that dug into her skull when she rested her head back. Luckily, there was no game today, so she didn't have to put on her cheerleader uniform. She planned on washing it at least four times to cleanse it.

Peter finally appeared around the corner. When he saw her, his features twisted into a scowl. She smirked and tilted her head. It took him a minute to reach her. She batted her eyelids. "Parker."

"What do you want, Greene?" he shot back. A twinge of annoyance stabbed her stomach. She preferred Carter over Greene and he knew that which was precisely why he called her Greene.

She shook it off and moved so he could get into his locker. "I thought it might interest you to know I won our bet." He froze. Her smirk returned with brand new vigor. Yes! It was all worth it! She beat Peter Parker!

"Why should I believe you?" he asked.

Wendy scoffed. "Aren't you buddy-buddy with Spider-Man? Ask him about the cute cheerleader he picked up last night. I'm sure he'll remember. I make a lasting impression." She winked and he gagged. She giggled. God, she loved this. This was a high she would be chasing for the rest of her life.

She patted his cheek. "I hope you've learned your lesson. You shouldn't bet against me, Parker."


	5. check-up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "spider-man had returned to her bedroom window."

Wendy wasn't expecting to ever see Spider-Man again.

She was sitting at her desk, finishing up some honors physics homework. Her laptop was open to a blank document in which she was going to craft her poem that Peter would read to the school. Her brain felt muddied. Her ears were clogged with the night before's dialogue.

_Look at her. She's a cheerleader._

Her stomach churned and her gaze drifted to her uniform. It lay crumpled by her hamper. Looking at it made her feel ill. She turned back to her homework. She only had three questions left, but she couldn't think.

_Young, inexperienced, hot. You're just our type Chloe. Maybe we can show you the ropes, right boys?_

She dropped her pencil and evaluated her hands. They were shaking desperately. Her heartbeat was rising. _You're just our type Chloe._ She couldn't breathe. A scream crawled up her throat, itching to be let loose upon her otherwise empty house. She was home alone. _Can we come with?_

A stifled version of the shriek building up in her chest was ripped from her mouth when a series of soft knocks sounded at her window. She spun to face none other than Spider-Man. He was crouched on her fire escape. Their gazes locked and he waved. She blinked rapidly. She couldn't believe her eyes. Spider-Man had returned to her bedroom window.

Why?

She jumped up and ran to the window. She fumbled with the locks momentarily but managed to get it open. She still hadn't put back the netting and so he clambered inside with ease. Wendy didn't think twice about letting him in her room. He was a superhero. He saved her from those men last night. 

She trusted him.

"I just wanted to check in on you," he said. He stood awkwardly in the middle of her room. She took a seat on her bed and patted the space beside her. He plopped down next to her, close enough so their limbs brushed. "How are you doing?"

"Bad," she answered honestly. "I'm constantly shaking and I'm scared and I can't sleep and I keep hearing their voices and feeling his hands on me." She held out her hands in front of her to demonstrate how she was quivering. He cautiously took her hands in his. They were bigger than hers. She wondered if all superheroes had an inane ability to make people feel safe.

He squeezed her hands. "They're in police custody. They'll never hurt you again." He moved one hand under her chin and lifted her head so their eyes met. "I won't let them, darling."

Wendy released a shaky laugh. "Darling?"

"Like Wendy Darling," he explained. Was he blushing? She felt like he was blushing under his mask.

"Does that make you my Peter Pan?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. Now he was definitely blushing. He forced a chuckle from his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. She giggled softly. She was weirdly enjoying imagining his facial expressions. For a moment, there was silence, and Wendy was left to internally debate if she'd truly become friends with Spider-Man.

She tentatively laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you for checking up on me. You didn't have to, but I really appreciate it."

Spider-Man rested his head on hers. "I felt bad about last night like I just rushed off on you."

"You did," Wendy replied, "but I understood. You're a superhero. You can't waste your time with pretty blonde cheerleaders who are perfectly safe in their homes." He laughed, an action that shook his whole body.

"I feel like you're kicking me out," he said. She pulled away and smiled. Wendy was often told she had a nice smile. She hoped her nice smile made him feel as warm as his touch made her feel. If this was what being friends with Spider-Man was like, she liked it very much.

She patted his cheek. "Just a little bit. I pride myself on not being selfish, so I'm not going to keep you any longer. Go on, Pan. Go save a cat from a tree or a child from a sewer. Go be a hero." She ran a finger over his mask. She could feel his lips. He was grinning. She quickly tucked her hands under her thighs. She knew if she didn't stop tracing his features now, she would never stop, and well...

There was a reason he wore a mask.

She stood. One hand still held his and so she tugged him over to her window. Holding hands with him was nice and it wasn't just because his suit was very soft. His hands were good for holding, she observed. She opened the window and leaned on the sill. She didn't want to say goodbye. She wanted to ask him questions and listen to his stories. She was sure his mind held a wealth of fascinating information. She hoped he'd come back...for scientific reasons, of course.

He was half out the window when he paused and looked back. "Would you mind if I continued checking up on you?"

"Stop by anytime," she blurted. Blushing, she cleared her throat and added, "I'm showing early signs of an anxiety disorder. I think it would be best for you to keep an eye on me, just in case."

"Well, until next time, Darling," Spider-Man said.

She tilted her head. "Be careful, Pan."

This time, she watched him leave. He moved at an impressive speed. Had he slowed down last night just for her? Once she was sure he was gone and she wasn't going to miss anything by looking away, she returned to her honors physics homework. Her mental block had withered to dust. She could finally think again. She finished her work quickly, her smile never leaving her face.


	6. panic!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "would they even have time to scream?"

Wendy finally cornered Peter Parker during third period.

It was completely by chance that they were at the bathrooms at the same time. Wendy figured it was a sign. She didn't waste time in calling out Peter's name and dragging him off to the side. He seemed more annoyed than usual to see her. She liked that.

"I finished the poem," she announced proudly. His brow furrowed. She rolled her eyes and added, "The poem you're going to read to the entire school that names every one of my positive attributes." His face dropped. Her smile returned.

"I thought I was supposed to write that," he mumbled.

Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Please tell me you have a rough draft."

He grinned. "Actually, I couldn't come up with anything." She scowled. Well, she walked right into that one. She puckered her lips and flipped her hair over her shoulder. She was suddenly struck by the realization that she didn't have a witty retort. Even weirder, she didn't care that she didn't have a witty retort. Her subconscious was focused on whether the frat boys would actually get convicted without a victim or witness. The police usually took Spider-Man's captures and notes fairly seriously, but attempted rape? Rape was barely taken seriously as it was.

"Chloe?"

Her heart dropped to her feet. Oh my god. They were here. They found her. This was it. They were going to take her and kill her. It wasn't like her or Peter Parker would be able to stop them. Would they even have time to scream? She could already feel Taller Letterman Jacket's arms around her, squeezing the life out of her. The air was sucked from her lungs as a scream scraped the top of her mouth, begging to be released.

"Hey, Wendy!"

She blinked and realized it was still just her and Peter in the hallway. The frat boys were nowhere to be seen. It was all in her head. That 'Chloe' was probably a misinterpretation of Peter saying 'Wendy.' She shook her head as if clearing cobwebs and was about to force a laugh when she realized she was crying.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked. He'd moved closer to her, but seemed hesitant to touch her. It was a good thing he hadn't. She'd probably lose her shit. She rubbed her eyes but when she opened them, this horrible situation was still playing out. Shit. What was she supposed to say? 'Yeah, I actually won the bet by nearly getting raped and now I'm traumatized!'

She cleared her throat. "I'm fine. I've just been missing Aunt Peggy more than usual lately."

Peter shifted nervously. "I-I never got a chance to tell you, but I saw the speech you made at her funeral - it was beautiful."

"Thanks," Wendy replied, her tone flat. "I'll email you the poem." With her head down, she fled back to her third-period class which, thankfully, was full of people who were perfectly content to ignore her sobbing at her desk.

*

Wendy was about to go to bed when Spider-Man appeared at her window.

She was much quicker about letting him in this time. She made sure he knew to be quiet because her parents were home and her dad would probably have seventeen consecutive heart attacks if he thought she had a _boy_ in her room. They sat on her bed again, but at the head, not the foot. 

Wendy was suffocating her old stuffed animal, trying to drain any comfort or semblance of innocence from the worn elephant. Her back was against her stack of pillows and her legs were tucked under her blanket. She was in the middle of the full mattress. Spider-Man sat closer to her feet in a criss-cross position, his hands laying lamely in his lap.

"I think I had a panic attack today," she divulged as she stared at the ceiling. 

"What happened?" he asked. She could hear the concern in his voice and she wondered why. Why did he seem to care about her so much? Why did he keep showing up here? Why was she so drawn to him? Why did she want him to hold her in his arms like he did that night?

She sighed. "I was in the hallway with Peter Parker. Hey, is he really your friend?"

"Oh, yeah," Spider-Man said quickly. "Yeah, you know, he's a pretty cool dude. I-I met him through Iron Man, so." He nonchalantly shrugged.

"Huh." Wendy tilted her head. So Peter wasn't lying just to get in Liz Allan's pants. "Anyway, I was standing in the hallway with him during third period because we had a bet, and I won, and so his punishment is he has to recite a poem detailing my greatest features to the school-"

"Who wrote the poem?" Spider-Man asked.

"I did."

She knew he was grinning as he said, "I could've written it for you." She stifled laughter and nudged him with her foot.

" _Anyway_ , we were talking and he said something douchey and I was supposed to say something back but I just started thinking about those boys and conviction rates for rape cases and then I thought I heard them and my heart started racing and I couldn't breathe and I was sure I was going to die. And then it was over and I was crying." The words rushed out of her mouth so quickly she thought her lungs might shrivel from a high oxygen output combined with a low input.

Spider-Man moved forward and gripped her shoulders. "Hey, darling, I will go down to that station myself and-and make a witness statement. I'm not gonna let them get away." Within a moment, his arms were wrapped tightly around her. She buried her face in his neck and hugged him back, her arms around his neck. He shifted to her side. Her leg found its way between his and his hands rubbed her back. Neither said a word. They stayed like that until Wendy fell asleep.


	7. yikes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "if that were the case, maybe the world wouldn't need superheroes."

They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit.

Wendy knew that wasn't true. Depending on the habit one is attempting to form, it can take anywhere from 21 days to 254 or maybe even longer. She figured it took about a week for Spider-Man's check-ins to become a habit. She started leaving her window ajar just enough for him to get in. He usually came in the afternoon, a little after school but before nightfall. The first two days, they just sat in silence, unsure what to do or say. The third day he came in while she was struggling to finish a sudoku puzzle and so they spent the next three days working on finishing her book of puzzles. On the sixth day, he brought her a churro and they people-watched from her fire escape.

On the seventh day, he found her crying at the foot of her bed.

"What's wrong?" he'd asked. He was by her side in an instant. Her laptop rested on her knees. The screen was bright, the light catching every tear that crawled down her cheeks. He followed her gaze to the glaring headline. It took a moment for him to understand.

*

**FRAT BOYS ARRESTED BY THE SPIDER-MAN EXONERATED DUE TO LACK OF WITNESS**

_by Karen Page_

Erik Chambers, Matthew Kingston, Chase Graziano, Thomas Schuetz, and Nathan Wallis were arrested two weeks ago by the Spider-Man. His signature note claimed they harassed and attempted to rape a sixteen-year-old girl. Police took them in for questioning. The boys, all betas at Sigma Kappa Nu, were exceptionally compliant. They told police Spider-Man 'misread the situation' and they were just 'giving the girl directions.'

No details are known about the alleged victim. Without a statement from the victim, the police have virtually no choice but to clear the boys of all charges. It seems like Spidey's word isn't enough to put criminals behind bars anymore. More details to follow.

*

"They're gonna get away with it," Wendy whispered. She didn't have the strength to raise her voice. Deep down, she knew the police wouldn't do anything - couldn't do anything. When it comes to rape, blame is always placed on the victim. She clenched her fists. She hated being a victim.

"No, no, they won't," Spider-Man insisted. He seemed panicky. "No, I'll go down to the station and give a-a witness statement."

Wendy smiled through her tears. "Thank you, but it won't matter."

"You don't know that!" he shot back. She shushed him quickly. Her mom was working from home today. He jumped up and started pacing a hole in her floor. She watched him brainstorm and blubber. He was so naive for a superhero. He had to know not every bad guy gets put away. If that were the case, maybe the world wouldn't need superheroes.

She sighed and laid her head back against the mattress. "I think I'd like to be alone now." He froze. Slowly, he turned to face her. She lifted her head to meet his gaze. They were silent for a moment. The only sounds were the whirring of Wendy's computer and the city ambiance seeping in through the cracked open window.

She expected him to push her, ask her more questions, refuse to leave her. Instead, he shook his head and headed for the window. Before he left, he said, "I'll fix this." He sounded close to tears. He opened the window just enough to get through, slipped out, and then he was gone. She closed and locked the window behind him. She picked her laptop off the floor and flopped down on her bed.

A knock sounded at her door. "Wendy? You okay in there?"

"I'm fine, Mom," she lied, plugging in her headphones. She clamped them over her ears and opened her pet project. It was a track she composed all by herself. She played it on a loop while she sobbed into her pillow.

*

"The patriarchy strikes again!"

Wendy wished Margot would shut up. She loved the fiery Latina, but goddamn, she did not want to think about those frat boys and that night and their hands on her. She wanted to pretend it was all just a weirdly vivid nightmare. She wanted to leave it behind.

Unfortunately, her entire friend group was composed of passionate feminists and Margot was the loudest of them all.

"The police never take rape seriously!" Margot crowed, slamming her fist on the table. "It needs to end!"

Angie made a face. "Honestly, I don't think it's their fault this time. It was attempted, and they didn't have a victim or witness to interview." Angie's parents were both cops and so she tended to stand up for the police force. She wasn't hesitant to admit when they were in the wrong, however, and she'd readily joined Erin's initiative to end police violence.

Wendy managed a grin. All of her friends were such good eggs.

"It's still messed up," Michelle spoke up, dipping a french fry in honey mustard. "I mean, Spider-Man doesn't just arrest people for no reason."

Angie nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I know, but Spider-Man isn't the system."

"I bet he's black," Erin said suddenly. They all looked at her. She shrugged. "Spider-Man. I bet he's a cute black boy with a tight ass."

Margot shook her head. "Nah, he's white. In some of the videos I've watched where you can hear his voice a little, he sounds white."

"He's definitely white," Wendy added absent-mindedly. It took her a moment to realize they were waiting for her to elaborate, to give evidence. She froze. She wanted to keep Spidey to herself. She didn't want to share him. If she kept it secret, maybe she could pretend he was her own personal superhero.

Besides, they would ask how she met him, and she couldn't answer that.

Wendy pulled a lie out of her ass. "He gave me directions on the night of the party. I didn't tell you guys?"

"No you didn't, you little whore," Erin snapped playfully. They giggled.

"So you won the bet with Peter?" Angie asked, stabbing her fork into her salad. 

Wendy paused and thought about Spider-Man's arms wrapped around her body, holding her close, keeping her safe. His voice, desperate and strained, as he struggled to find a way to fix this fucking disaster Wendy called her life. She thought about her new routine of cracking her bedroom window as soon as she got home. She thought about running her finger over his lips, discovering the shape of his face.

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."


	8. poetry in motion!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "and then peter parker climbed onto the table, a midtown high cheer squad megaphone in hand."

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

Erin and Angie plopped down on either side of Wendy, who closed her book and prepared for the worst. Her thoughts raced, trying to find a way out of this confrontation. Wendy was horrific with confrontation.

Angie laid a hand on Wendy's arm and tilted her head. "You've been skipping dance practice and you haven't been to cheer practice in ages." Wendy froze. Her heart was trying to break out of her ribcage, pushing against the bones and rattling the surrounding organs. She hadn't been to dance because dance was essentially the same crowd as cheer, and she hadn't been to cheer because cheer meant putting on that uniform again and she wasn't ready for that.

"Did something happen the night of the party?" Erin asked. It was so obvious something was wrong with Wendy that Erin didn't even feel the need to specify which party. They all knew the one she was talking about. The party that Wendy left early, drunk and alone, even though several people insisted on walking her home. The party that Wendy could barely remember because the party was just the precursor to those frat boys and their eyes glinting in the dim lights.

Wendy wasn't sure what to say and, as it turned out, she didn't have to say anything, because Michelle and Margot took their spots opposite the trio and Margot was in full-on rant mode. "Y'know, they're releasing those frat boys today."

"I don't want to think about that," Angie said dismissively, unknowingly echoing the words playing on repeat in Wendy's head. "Just let me be naive and believe that they're telling the truth and Spider-Man misinterpreted the situation. It's the only way I'll be able to sleep at night."

Guilt and anger crashed over Wendy like a tidal wave. _They're liars,_ she wanted to scream. _I'm sorry Angie but they're lying. Spider-Man saved me_. But screaming meant outing herself as the victim. Screaming meant the little semblance of normality she had left turning to ash before her eyes. The scream built in her throat, the words creating such pressure she thought her esophagus might burst.

And then Peter Parker climbed onto the table, a Midtown High cheer squad megaphone in hand. Wendy's eyes brightened. That could only mean one thing.

Applause exploded throughout the cafeteria. Everyone knew about the bet right now and so they knew that Peter's stunt meant he'd lost. The lunchroom quieted so they could better hear the poem Wendy had spent about half an hour on. Her friends fought giggles, Wendy's personality shift and the frat boys having been momentarily forgotten. Peter looked around and locked gazes with Wendy. She waved, waggling her fingers in a teasing manner. He just smiled.

He cleared his throat and tapped his phone screen to prevent it from going to sleep. "There's Wendy's, of fast food fame, and Wendy Darling, we all know her name. But the greatest Wendy of all walks amongst us in the hall. Wendy Carter-Greene, you may think she's from a dream. But she's real and she's a beaut. Just one look and I go mute. She's beauty and grace, she's fire and ice, and despite her clear superiority, she's actually quite nice."

Erin nudged Wendy and whispered, "You wrote this?"

"No," Wendy hissed, eyes narrowed. "He's not performing the poem I wrote, which was so much better than this shit. He's such an asshole. Why can't he just let me win?"

Michelle leaned over the table and grabbed Wendy's arm. "Wait, Peter wrote this?" Wendy shrugged. Suddenly, whispers spread the cafeteria like wildfire, all with a similar theme. _Peter wrote the poem. Peter wrote it. He likes her. Peter likes Wendy! Are you sure he likes her? He has to, how else could he write the poem? Oh, my God, Peter likes Wendy!_

Wendy's blood ran cold. Peter froze as if he knew what everyone was saying. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He raised the megaphone to his lips once more, his grip much tighter. "Uh, in conclusion, Wendy's great and I'm terrible. The end."

It didn't matter. The idea had wormed its way into their brains. It would nestle there and grow like a parasite, implanting false thoughts and new interpretations of memories. _Y'know, they'd actually be really cute together. Totally! Remember when Wendy shoved Peter in the hallway and he grabbed her hand and they fell down together? They're my new OTP._

Wendy wanted to die. This was her worst nightmare. Something she'd always liked about her feud with Peter was no one ever mistaken it for something it wasn't. It was simple: Wendy hated Peter and Peter hated Wendy. That was it, but now? Suddenly, now it's _Remember when so-and-so happened? They've totally liked each other this entire time!_

Shaking, she gathered her things and ran from the cafeteria. She'd finish her lunch in Ms. Creevy's room. She avoided looking at anyone. It was official: her life fucking sucked.


	9. details!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...she couldn't help but grin."

Ms. Creevy didn't question or mind Wendy hiding in her room for the rest of the day. 

Ms. Creevy was a short, stout woman who was often mistaken to be mean. She had a curt, dry sense of humor and she enjoyed using sarcasm to get her points across. Although quite a few students thought she was a total bitch, they all generally liked her because she let them curse and she hated the stuffy old books on the curriculum just as much as them. She even let them call her Creevy and Creeves.

Even hidden away in the room of one of her favorite teachers, it took everything within Wendy not to cry.

She knew if she cried Creevy wouldn't judge, but fuck, she was so sick of crying. She'd been crying ever since that goddamn party, ever since those boys laid eyes on her. Those boys who weren't just Taller Letterman Jacket or Polo Shirt anymore. They had names now, entire faces. They weren't just her demons now. They were people, people who had hurt her and were getting away with it.

Wendy was blessed enough that a decent amount of her coursework was online, a part of the school's initiative to be green and help the environment. As long as she kept her laptop charged, she could get her work done. It was almost like she didn't miss anything. It was almost like everything was normal. As long as she didn't pull up that tab with that article on it, she was fine.

Eventually, her classmates filed in for last period English. Wendy took her usual seat beside Erin, who immediately threw her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The two girls exchanged looks. Wendy's heart warmed, knowing the furrowing of Erin's eyebrows and the narrowing of her eyes and tightening of her jaw meant her friend was willing to fight for her. If anyone talked shit, they'd have to go through her, and despite Erin's somewhat short stature, she was quite terrifying.

"You guys are going to love this next assignment," Creevy said. A few of the rowdier students let out cheers. Wendy tried to pretend she couldn't feel Peter's eyes on her.

Creevy hopped onto her desk, her legs dangling. "Alright, assholes. We're more than halfway through the year and I still don't know some of your names." The class giggled. "I wish I was kidding. I barely know anything about you guys because when you write, it's all so technical. Even your creative writings tend to follow a formula. I'm obviously not talking to you, Wendy, aka the only one in this class who was ever impressed me." Erin whooped and clapped. Wendy ducked her head, her cheeks burning red.

Flash Thompson spoke up from towards the back of the classroom, "I don't know, Creeves. I think you'd be mighty impressed if you saw one of Parker's poems." Her classmates snickered and her heart sank. Wendy balled her hands into fists. Stupid Peter Parker. Why couldn't he just read the poem she'd written for him? Why did he attempt one of his own?

Unless it wasn't his own. She was suddenly faced with a realization that explained everything. She'd told Spider-Man about the poem. He said he would write it for her. Peter was friends with Spider-Man, right? What if Spider-Man wrote the poem and gave it to Peter to read? She'd have to ask when he swung by later. If he swung by later.

Did Spider-Man write that poem? The very idea caused a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

"Wendy, did you hear the assignment?"

The blonde jolted and nearly fell out of her chair. Creevy now stood right by her desk, an eyebrow raised. Wendy ran her fingers through her hair. "Uh, no, sorry."

"It's fine, you're still my favorite," Creevy said nonchalantly. "I want to know all about you. Literally, just tell me about yourselves. In fact, I want the first line to be, Hello, my name is blah-blah. All you have to do to get a good grade on this thing is write it, meet the page requirement, follow the given format, follow the rules of grammar, and turn it on time. It's easy. After all, your generation loves to talk about themselves, right?" That line only got a few half-hearted chuckles.

Creevy shrugged. "I know I'm not funny. Anyway, you have the rest of class to write this bitch. It's due next class. Let the writing commence!" The room was full of shuffling as the students dug their computers out of their bags. A low murmur fell over them, friends talking to each other in hushed tones.

"This sucks," Erin grumbled. "I'm so boring. What am I supposed to write about?"

"You're not boring," Wendy chastised, elbowing her. "You're wonderful." The girls shared a warm smile. Wendy created a new document, set up her MLA heading, and typed her hook.

_Hello, my name is Wendy Margaret Carter-Greene._

Well, that was her first sentence done.

She tapped her fingers on the desk. What next? She pursed her lips and added, _I am sixteen-years-old._ Brilliant. Somewhere, JK Rowling was quaking. Wendy fought a groan. Maybe Erin was right. Maybe this assignment was going to suck.

After all, what was there to say? _Hey, I'm Wendy and my life sucks! Not only did I recently lose my Aunt Peggy, who I spent a lot of my childhood and who's responsible for about 79% of my personality, but I also was nearly raped! The boys who tried to rape me are in police custody, but they're being released today._

It didn't make for the most cheerful essay.

But Wendy didn't have a cheerful life. Wendy's life was awful. The world was cruel and she had clearly pissed it off in a past life. It wanted her broken and bitter and miserable. Well, it had her right where it wanted her. She was miserable and bitter and broken. To anyone who knew all the details, the idea of her smiling would be ridiculous.

And yet, when that little voice in the back of her head reminded her to open her window when she got home, she couldn't help but grin.


	10. homework!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she decided not to question it"

When Wendy got home, she cracked the window in her room first, then got a snack and started her homework.

She was splayed out on her bed, halfway through her algebra II homework. Her hair was pulled into a sloppy bun, a spare pencil stuck behind her ear. Her notes were open to her left and her snack, apple slices, bread, and cheese, was sitting on her right. She had one earbud in. She was listening to some k-pop girl group Angie had recommended. She looked serene save for her puckered lips and furrowed brow.

By the time she was done with algebra II, her elbows were sore from propping her up. She moved on, glancing at the window. What time was it? Was it time for Spider-Man to come around? Would he come around? What if he avoided her because of everything that was happening? She didn't want to think about that.

Finally, all she had left to do was her essay, tentatively titled Introducing Me. She cleaned up her snack and put away her folders. She was maybe sort of totally putting off writing the essay. She didn't want to write about herself. She didn't want to think about the things she'd been through.

She checked the time. Spider-Man usually came around by now. Was he mad at her? Was he mad at himself? She was nibbling away at the dead cells and lipstick on her bottom lip when he showed up at her window. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. Not everything was a complete disaster.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, limbo-ing into her room with a churro in each hand. "I thought I'd grab us a snack."

"Come on, sit," she beckoned, patting the spot right beside her. He plopped down, nearly knocking her laptop off the bed. He managed to stop its fall with his foot. She let herself laugh and relax. She was safe now. She was with her Peter Pan.

He passed her her churro and tugged his mask up over his mouth so he could eat. She froze for a moment. She could see his jaw, the milkiness of his skin, a tiny scar on his chin. She could see his lips. They were fairly thin. She couldn't stop looking at them. She'd felt them before, over his mask, but now his lips were out for the world to see. For _her_ to see. He trusted her.

"I have kind of a weird question to ask," she blurted, scooting closer to him so their knees touched.

"Ask away, darling," he replied around a mouthful of his churro. She took a bite of her own - it was surprisingly warm.

She chewed, then swallowed, then looked directly into his eyes. "Did you write the poem Peter read at lunch today?" He smiled. She could see his smile. It was adorable.

"How could you tell?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Well, you said you could write it for me and I know Peter hates me as much as I hate him so there's no way in hell he could've written it." Spidey finished his churro but left his mouth uncovered. Her heartbeat quickened.

"Why do you two hate each other anyway?" he questioned, raising his hand to wipe a crumb from the corner of her lips. Wendy bit her lip. His mouth was so close to hers. Why was it so close? Why didn't she mind it being in such close proximity? She cleared her throat.

"Uh, well there was this talent show in 6th grade and I totally deserved the win and then Peter showed me up," she explained hastily. "Ever since then, I've come second to him. He like, deliberately gets into the stuff I'm into so he can beat me."

Spidey's jaw dropped slightly. "B-But he's such a nice guy."

"That's what he wants you to think," she said. "He wants you to think he's nice and innocent to lure you into a false sense of security so he can ruin your life. Like, for instance, in freshmen year, before we took the tests for the decathlon team, he came up to me and said I was definitely going to beat him out for a spot and then I was below him by a fraction of a point. A fraction!"

Spidey frowned. "Is that why you're not on the decathlon team?"

Wendy's brow furrowed. "How do you know that?" His lips puckered into an 'o.' God, his lips were so distracting.

"Well, it's definitely not because I was asking Peter about you," he laughed forcefully. Her eyes lit up. He was asking about her. He wanted to know more about her. Her heart swelled. She could lean right in and kiss him if she wanted to.

Instead, she inquired, "Wait, what did Peter say about me?"

"He was a lot nicer than you were," Spidey scoffed.

She scowled. "Of course he was, that little shit." Spidey sucked in his bottom lip and she thought she might scream. He had to know what he was doing to her, right?

He leaned across the bed and pulled her laptop onto his lap. "What's this?"

"My homework for English," she replied with a little groan. "I have to write an essay all about me, which should be easy save for the fact that my life is horribly depressing and I don't want to think about it."

"We'll write it together," Spidey said affirmatively. "Let's see. 'My name is Wendy Margaret Carter-Greene. I am sixteen-years-old.' Good start. Okay, so, 'I am an exceptionally beautiful cheerleader with stunning eyes and nice legs.'"

"What was that?" she interrupted, trying to suppress a giggle. "Have you been looking at my legs, Pan?"

He squinted at her. "I have no idea what gave you that impression." The corners of his lips twitched. She shook her head playfully.

"Keep going," she pressed. "This has to be two pages."

He clicked his tongue. "Right, so 'I live in New York City. My best friend is Spider-Man.'"

"I think you're overestimating your importance to me," she interjected. He shot her as dirty a look as he could manage with his mask half-on.

"Rude," he admonished. She laughed and leaned into him. "'My best friend is Spider-Man. I spend my days being gorgeous and talking to Spider-Man. My talents include cheer and having a very nice face.'"

She playfully shoved him. "This is an essay, not my Tindr bio."

"Good," he retorted. "You don't need Tindr. In fact, 'I'm in love with Spider-Man. He is so handsome and kind and brave. One day we will get married and have lots of Spider-Babies.'"

She shrieked and yanked the laptop away from him, all the while exclaiming, "You are so full of yourself!" She tried to set the laptop back on the foot of her bed, but he made an attempt to grab it back. They ended up wrestling for control of the computer. His suit made him somewhat slippery and so it was a difficult endeavor to keep the laptop away from him. She managed to drop it onto the floor before rolling them over so she was on top.

They were laughing. Their bodies were intertwined. When had her legs started to straddle him? At what point during the struggle had her shirt rode up and the tip of his nose escaped his mask? Since when were their faces so close?

She decided not to question it.

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his. They were kissing. She was kissing Spider-Man. All of a sudden his hands were on her waist and their foreheads were touching. He tasted like the churro and she guessed whatever fabric made up his mask. Her hands cupped his face, their lips moving in sync.

It was like the world melted away. The tightness in Wendy's chest dissolved. This was perfect. This made everything worth it. She'd thought she'd never find a high better than beating Peter Parker, but she was oh so wrong. One kiss and she was addicted. She wanted more. She wanted to never stop kissing him. She wanted his hands to move up-

When they finally broke apart, they were left gasping for air. Wendy's body was buzzing in a way she'd never experienced before. Her senses were overloaded with nothing but him. She could only taste his lips and feel his hands and his body beneath hers. She could only hear his pants and smell his suit. She could only see him, lying on her bed, trying to recover his breath. 

They locked eyes and the world paused. Was this one of those moments Erin went on and on about? She wanted it to last forever, this moment of understanding between them that this friendship was not a friendship, not anymore. This moment of realization that they'd kissed, passionately, and they'd enjoyed it. They did enjoy it, didn't they? Wendy knew she enjoyed it, probably a bit too much for her own good. But did he enjoy it?

The moment was shattered when he slipped out from underneath and made a break for the window. He tossed a breathless, "I should get going," over his shoulder before leaving in a blur of red and blue. Wendy was left alone, abandoned in the world that moment had created for just the two of them. The momentary overwhelming warmth had gone and left her cold. Her eyes welled with tears.

He didn't enjoy the kiss.

He didn't just leave. He ran. He ran away as fast as he could from the small broken blonde who'd mistaken his polite kindness and jokes for genuine affection. She flopped down on her back, staring up at the ugly stained ceiling. He didn't like her. Certainly not like she liked him. She'd ruined everything yet again.

There was a knock at her door. Her dad's voice sounded, "Hey sweetheart, I just got home. What're you up to in there?"

She rubbed her face tiredly. "Homework. I'm just finishing up some homework."

"Well, when you're done, why don't you come out and tell me about your day, maybe help me with dinner?" he asked. She cringed. She just wanted to be left alone. She wanted to sit in this world built for two all by herself and cry. She never thought this would happen to her. Crying, over a boy? It was ludicrous. And yet tears slipped down her cheeks and her shoulders shook.

"Yeah, sounds good," she replied half-heartedly. Homework. She was finishing up some homework. She grabbed her laptop from its place on the floor, deleted everything Spider-Man had typed, and, with a heavy heart, began to write.


	11. statement!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "well, get ready to hear my name a whole hell of a lot."

Introducing Me

My name is Wendy Margaret Carter-Greene. I'm sixteen-years-old. If you recognize my name, it might be because you go to school with me. Or maybe you were one of the millions who watched the live broadcast of my Great-Great-Aunt Peggy's funeral, where I delivered a speech and cried in front of Captain America. Maybe you know my parents, Dr. Rachel Carter-Greene and Theodore Carter-Greene, an executive at Oscorp Industries. Or maybe you've never heard of me or my family.

Well, get ready to hear my name a whole hell of a lot.

If you keep up with the news or follow @spideyupdates on Twitter like I do, you've probably heard or read all about one of Spider-Man's bigger captures; a group of frat boys from Sigma Kappa Nu who attempted to rape a girl. By now, the boys have been released due to lack of evidence and/or a lack of a victim. No details have been made public about the supposed victim.

In the police report, they probably call her Chloe, because that's the name she gave those frat boys. The report probably includes the fact that she was wearing a cheerleader's uniform for the Midtown Cougars. Maybe there's even a description of her. Blonde, short, tipsy...I wonder what words they put in her mouth.

In my mouth.

Hello, my name is Wendy Margaret Carter-Greene and I was assaulted and nearly raped by Erik Chambers, Matthew Kingston, Chase Graziano, Thomas Schuetz, and Nathan Wallis.

I had to look up their names. I'm not used to them having names. Ever since that night, I'd been calling them NYU Sweatshirt (Matthew Kingston,) Shorter Letterman Jacket (Nathan Wallis,) Taller Letterman Jacket (Erik Chambers,) Graphic Tee (Thomas Schuetz,) and Polo Shirt (Chase Graziano.) A large part of me doesn't like putting names to nicknames and faces to names. I don't like acknowledging that they're real people with families and lives. It's almost easier to think of them as my demons, as the things of my nightmares.

I remember that night so clearly. I was cold and tipsy. I was on my way home from an after-party to celebrate the boys' basketball team's fourth consecutive win. My friends had offered to walk me home, but I wanted to be alone. I had a lot on my mind.

It was around two in the morning. I took a wrong turn and ended up walking down a street I didn't recognize. I just kept moving. I just wanted to get home. Then they surrounded me. They were clearly drunk. Their eyes glinted in the low light. I can recall everything they said. It's not hard considering their words have been replaying in my head ever since.

NYU Sweatshirt (Matthew Kingston) spoke first. "Look at her. She's a cheerleader." He'd laughed.

"I've had a really long day. I just wanna go home please," I'd said. I knew right off the bat that I was doomed. I'd been warned about men like them.

"Can we come with?" Shorter Letterman Jacket (Nathan Wallis) asked. Then they all laughed like it was so damn funny. I remember I folded my arms over my chest because I was freezing and I tried to rub my arms to create friction for some warmth.

That's when Graphic Tee - fuck, I mean Thomas Schuetz said, "Need some help warming up?"

"I'm good, I just wanna go home," I'd repeated because I read about something called the broken record method, which basically meant that if someone wasn't listening to you or your request, you repeat yourself until they get it. These boys got it, but they didn't care.

Graphic Tee (Thomas Scheutz! His name is Thomas Scheutz!) asked for my name ("What's your name, pretty lady?") and moved towards me so I stumbled back, closer to Taller Letterman Jacket - Erik Chambers. I lied and said my name was Chloe. It was the first name I could think of. My every instinct was telling me to lie to them. There was this voice at the back of my head screaming that if I gave them my real name, even if I left the situation alive, they would find me.

Polo Shirt - I'm sorry, Chase Graziano recognized the emblem on my uniform. He said, "Chloe the cheerleader. And you go to Midtown?" He was referring to, of course, Midtown School of Science and Technology.

That is indeed the school I attend, and so despite my better judgment, I replied, "Midtown High School, yes." What a dumb piece of shit I was. I thought maybe they thought I was their age, y'know? Maybe if they knew I was underaged they would leave me alone.

But they didn't.

Shorter Letterman - shit, I mean Nathan Wallis told me, "The girls weren't as hot as you when I was in high school," and his friends laughed because apparently hitting on a minor is fucking hilarious. He said, "I bet you're breaking all the boys' hearts."

Looking back on it, that line is kind of funny, because I only went to that after-party to get my mind off an annoying boy.

I forced some laughter and said, "Not really. I'm not allowed to date. Too young." Stupid, stupid Wendy. I want to scream at that memory of me that they don't give a fuck. No matter my age, they'd already decided what they wanted to do to me and I wouldn't be able to stop them.

"Young, inexperienced, hot," Polo Shirt - fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He is not Polo Shirt. He is Chase Graziano. He licked his lips and said, "You're just our type, Chloe. Maybe we can show you the ropes, right boys?"

 _Young, inexperienced, hot. You're just our type, Chloe_. I think that line haunts me the most because it really leads me to believe that I am not the only one these boys have targeted. It makes me think that this is their thing, maybe even something they do on a regular basis. In some ways, it's oddly comforting to think there might be others out there who have experienced the same horrors as me. On the other hand, the thought of someone else having to endure what I went through makes me want to pull a Sylvia Plath if you catch my drift.

I was so fucking scared. "I should be getting home, my dad's probably worried sick." Oh God, my dad. I just realized he's almost definitely going to read this. He's going to read this and he's never going to look at me the same way. No one will.

My hands are shaking and my vision's blurring but I have to keep writing this because if I stop, I'll never finish.

Erik Chambers (I can't believe it, I can't believe I let myself make the correlation, I can't fucking believe it) didn't like me mentioning my dad. He grabbed me from behind and pulled me close. He shushed me and planted his face in the crook of my neck (I just gagged) and he said, just loud enough for all of his friends to hear, "Don't mention your dad, sweetheart. It's a buzz kill."

Well, sorry. Didn't mean to kill your raging rapist boner.

I thought that was the end. I thought I was going to die or be irreparably damaged. And then the universe decided to cut me some slack and we heard that wonderful, magical _thwip_ _!_ We heard it two or three times before he landed in the center of the circle that the frat boys had formed. That was the first time I saw his new suit.

The one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-Man had come to my rescue.

He quipped, "Well, this doesn't look consensual." I tried to run forward but Erik fucking Chambers refused to let go and I swear my arms popped out of their sockets.

Thomas Scheutz let out a chuckle and said, "We're just having a bit of fun. No problem here, Mr. Spider-Man."

I dug deep into myself and managed to plead, "Help me. Please." Spider-Man winked at me and promptly took care of the frat boys. Erik, Thomas, and Chase got webbed to the nearest brick wall. Nathan got stuck to a lamp post. Matthew was pinned on the sidewalk by a web. Then Spider-Man took me home and I haven't put on my cheerleader's uniform since. I've washed it maybe ten times now but it's still filthy.

I can still feel Erik's hands on me, his hot breath on my skin. Sometimes people say my name and I hear Chloe instead of Wendy. That gave me a panic attack the other day.

Before I wrap this up, I should probably add that some will claim I went looking for trouble. After all, I had just recently made a bet that I could become friends with Spider-Man. It's one of the reasons I've kept my mouth shut thus far. I know people will say I was asking for it, that I should not have been out that late, that I should've changed into more modest clothing. There will be people who will say I'm doing this for a shot at fame or to get attention. If you hear someone say that, I want you to ask them to name at least five of the sixty women who have made allegations of sexual assault against Bill Cosby. Do you know why people like Michael Fassbender and Woody Allen should be blocked from the industry?  Can you name any of the women who have accused Donald Trump of sexual assault?

Sexual assault is often associated with shame and secrecy. You speak up, you get torn down. Somehow it's always the victim's fault. I was physically assaulted and sexually harassed with the intent to rape. I know this, I lived this, and there's still a part of me that wants to justify these boys' actions. They were drunk, maybe they didn't hear me state my age, maybe they thought I was flirting with them, maybe they were raised in a sexist society full of toxic masculinity that teaches girls not to get raped instead of teaching boys not to rape.

(To be perfectly honest, I'm leaning towards that last one.)

But this happened. That night happened. No matter how much I try to forget, try to move on and suppress the damage it's done to me, it still fucking happened. And it's going to keep happening unless these boys - Nathan Wallis, Erik Chambers, Thomas Schuetz, Chase Graziano, Matthew Kingston - are put away. They need to be held responsible for their actions. They need to be taken off the streets. They need to be punished because no matter their state of mind or justification, what they did was wrong. Perhaps, most importantly, society needs an example of what happens when you attack women. Too often men get away with it. It's time for that to end. It doesn't matter if you're the president of a prestigious fraternity or a talented athlete or a loser or a "good guy" or someone with so much promise or a burnout - assault is a crime. It is illegal and therefore any perpetrators deserve to be punished.

And lastly, a paragraph for those who do know me - who call me 'best friend' or walk past me in the hall or work with my parents or have just done a research project on Agent Peggy Carter - I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry I tried to bury this and forget. I'm sorry I drifted away. I'm sorry I stopped going to cheer or talking about my day at the dinner table. I'm even sorry to you, Peter, that I made you get up on a table at lunch and recite a poem about me because even though I won that stupid fucking bet, I didn't really win, did I? I'm sorry, Ms. Creevy, who just wanted a simple essay about who we are and got a confession. And I'm sorry, Aunt Peggy, that I failed you. You taught me to be strong, to stand my ground and speak up for what I believe in, and instead, I hid, ashamed of what those frat boys had done to me.

And most of all, I'm sorry if these boys hurt you too. I'm sorry that I took so damn long to open my mouth. I'm sorry if the police ignored your case or maybe you never were in a place that you could report it. I'm sorry if you still have nightmares. I'm sorry if people label you a victim. We are not victims. We are survivors. I'm sorry if you can no longer trust men. I'm sorry if what they did to you led you to hurt or attempt to kill yourself.  I'm sorry that you didn't get a hero. I'm so fucking sorry.

*

Her dad was calling her. Dinner was ready. She copied and pasted the text into an email meant for every newspaper she could think of with the subject 'EXCLUSIVE VICTIM STATEMENT.' She maneuvered the cursor onto the bright blue 'Send' button. Her finger hovered over the touchpad. One tap and it'd send. She could still delete it or stick it in her drafts to rot there.

She glanced at her window, still open from Spider-Man's quick exit.

She clenched her jaw and slammed the pad of her finger down.

_Sent._


	12. good!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...a cluster of girls and tears."

Her parents had gone to work by the time she left her room. She was too anxious to eat so she went straight to school. She kept her head down. She passed newspaper stands but the very thought of looking made her stomach churn wildly. The voice at the back of her head told her that everyone was looking at her. Everyone knew.

She walked up the path to the school. Most people were inside by now. She paused on the steps. She could still turn back. She could run, hop on the subway, and just ride the tracks until her heart stopped pounding. She balled her hands into fists. No. There was no running away from this.

Wendy pushed into the school and instantly everyone turned to stare. It took everything within her, but she kept her head held high and her gait confident. She hadn't done anything wrong. She'd spoken out against injustice. She'd done something brave, something she hoped her Aunt Peggy might be proud of.

She walked to her locker where her friends were waiting. Fuck. She could feel herself breaking, her resolve crumbling at the sight of them. They turned to look at her. Shit. Angie and Erin looked close to tears. Margot had her hand over her mouth the way she always did when she was trying to stop herself from crying. Even Michelle, master of masking her emotions, seemed upset.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," Angie said as soon as Wendy was close enough to hear, "but I talked to Coach Wilson and he said we can make room in the budget for a new cheer uniform if you need one, and Erin talked to Mrs. Wayland and you're not going to be punished for missing cheer or dance."

That was the last straw.

A strangled sob escaped Wendy as she threw herself forward into her friends' arms. They surrounded her, forming a protective layer from the rest of the hallway. Angie started crying too and Margot was only seconds behind. They stayed like that for a while, a cluster of girls and tears. The warmth generated from their bodies was almost too much, but Wendy couldn't find it within herself to care. She was safe in the arms of her best friends, of the people she knew would never look down on her.

"Anything you need, we'll provide," Michelle promised when they finally pulled away. She ruffled Wendy's hair. "We'll storm the police precinct if you want to."

Angie winced, down to sniffling. "Maybe not that." She took one look at Wendy and burst into tears again, crying out, "Definitely that! Whatever you want!"

"I should've walked you home," Erin whispered.

Wendy shrugged. "It wouldn't've mattered. They would've just hurt the both of us." Angie suppressed a wail. The blonde's eyes widened and, in a panic, she blurted out, "Hey, it's not...it's not that bad. I-I got to meet Spider-Man." Angie did wail this time because Wendy meeting Spider-Man was just a reminder that Wendy had needed saving.

"When you called out Michael Fassbender and Woody Allen, I screamed," Margot admitted followed by a forced chuckle. "It was so badass. The whole thing."

Erin pressed a kiss to Wendy's forehead. "And if anyone says anything, we'll kill them, okay?" The group converged for another hug before breaking apart to go to class. When Wendy stepped into her French class, she knew her worst nightmares had come true. There were whispers that stopped as she soon as she walked in.

Great.

*

When lunch rolled around, Wendy only had one thing on her mind. She had things she needed to sort out. The blonde strolled into the cafeteria and sat opposite Peter and Ned. They stared at her like she'd gone absolutely insane.

Wendy laid her hands on the table and sighed. "Parker, we need to have a talk about plagiarism."

Margot plopped down beside her, lunch tray in hand. "Are we sitting here today? Why are we sitting here?" Angie took the spot on Wendy's left, Erin taking the seat to the left of her. Michelle sat at the next table down. The other girls didn't question the seating arrangement. They figured Wendy would be clambering for any sense of normality, and Wendy's normal was battling Peter.

"I know Spider-Man wrote the poem, Peter," Wendy said, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

Erin paused. "Spider-Man did the what now?" Peter's cheeks were bright red, his gaze dancing around the room. He refused to look at Wendy. His brow was furrowed slightly like he was in pain. Ned looked like he was either going to laugh or cry.

"Wendy won the bet, now she and Spider-Man are friends, and he wrote the poem Peter read yesterday," Angie re-capped. She quirked an eyebrow. "Do you not read the group chat?"

"I muted the notifications after Margot's _My Immortal_ commentary," Erin explained, snatching a chicken nugget off of Angie's tray.

Margot pouted. "Hey! That was quality content." Erin scoffed and stole a handful of fries from Ned.

"H-He said he wanted it to be a-a secret," Peter stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Ned's eyes were darting back and forth as if he was watching a tennis match.

"Wait, Spider-Man wrote the poem?" Erin was waggling her eyebrows now as if the implication had finally caught up with her. She bobbed her head, her lips pulled into a large smile. She reached over Angie to poke Wendy's arm. "Yes, get it, girl!"

Wendy rolled her eyes but shot Erin a discreet wink, eliciting a squeal from her friend. The blonde cleared her throat and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Look, I just want people to stop saying we're in love with each other, so I'm telling everyone he wrote the poem and you're gonna back me up, right? I mean, it's a win-win. It's proof that you're friends with Spider-Man and people will get it through their thick skulls that we're not meant to be or whatever."

Peter nodded hastily. "Right, yeah, sounds good."

"Good," Wendy affirmed, her shoulders sagging with relief. "Good."


	13. not good!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "he was just so caught up in her."

_Peter_

Not good.

You'd think someone who was hailed as a superhero and had just recently made out with his crush of three years would be ecstatic. Rather, Peter felt like he was dying. Because he wasn't just someone who was hailed as a superhero and had just recently made out with his crush of three years. He was hailed as a superhero but decidedly useless because his mentor wouldn't let him do jackshit and yes, had just recently made out with his crush of three years - and immediately ran away. And now his crush was looking him in the eyes with no idea that he was the one she had kissed last night, so intent on ending their classmates' speculation that they were a couple that she seemed to completely miss his burning blush and Ned's look of pre-spontaneous combustion.

Truth be told, Peter liked people saying that he and Wendy were the new it couple of Midtown, even if it was just a joke. He loved people saying they would be a great couple because he felt the exact same way. He'd spent years trying to impress Wendy, trying to make her see that he was just as cool as she was, that he could keep up with her, only for it to result in a one-sided rivalry. He remembered what she said, about why she hated him, and he couldn't help but feel part of it was true.

He was manipulating her, wasn't he? Battling her as Peter and then visiting her and flirting with her as Spidey...it was dirty. Especially now that she had apparently developed romantic feelings for Spidey. He fought a scowl. He was jealous of himself. The entire time he'd known Wendy he'd been dreaming of her falling in love with him and apparently, all it took was a super-suit, some flirtatious comments, a few jokes and saving her from wannabe-rapists.

Okay, that last bit probably wasn't accomplishable as Peter Parker.

This entire situation sucked. He could either stop visiting Wendy as Spidey and thus, break her heart, date Wendy as Spidey and thus be a shady asshole, or tell her the truth and risk her never speaking to him again. He evaluated his options. After everything Wendy had been through, she didn't deserve to have her heart broken, so that ruled out option one, and kind of ruled out option three. After all, finding out her Peter Pan was actually the guy she hates would be heart-breaking, right? But he had to tell her at some point, so why not now?

He looked up from his shitty school lunch. Wendy and her friends had moved down to their normal table and were talking in hushed tones. He didn't even have to listen to know she was telling them about the kiss. It was obvious in Erin's incremental whooping and Margot's bouncing in her seat. Aware this only made him more of a garbage human being, Peter decided to listen in on their conversation.

"I need more details," Angie gushed. "I mean, like were his lips soft? Was there tongue involved? Where on your body were his hands exactly?"

Wendy considered the questions. "His lips were a little chapped, but I didn't mind. There was no tongue, but I wish there was. And her hands," she sighed dreamily, "they were on my hips, like right under the hem of my shirt so his thumb and index fingers were touching my skin. I wanted them higher, though. So much higher." His lips curled into a smirk. Why was he even listening to them besides to fuel his ego? He should just return to his lunch.

But he didn't.

"And the kiss was good, yeah?" Michelle chimed in, more interested than Peter had ever seen her.

"Amazing," Wendy said with a little moan and Peter tensed. "God, okay, so kissing him was like injecting dopamine and oxytocin directly into my bloodstream. It was so warm and magical." Her friends all 'awww'ed at the same time, even Michelle, who he was led to believe did not experience emotions.

"You're listening to their conversation, aren't you?" Ned asked, elbowing Peter in the ribs.

Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Ned, I screwed up. Big time."

"What do you mean?" Ned knocked lightly on Peter's head. "Come on, man. Open up." Peter turned his head so he could see Ned. A rush of guilt consumed him. Ned was going to think he was a piece of shit for kissing Wendy. Well, technically, she kissed him, but he didn't quite stop her, did he? He should've stopped her. He was just so caught up in her. 

Ned insisted that was a big problem for Peter. Every now and then his brain would stop working and everything became Wendy Carter-Greene. Like, why focus on a bio lab when he could think about how the flower had made her sneeze and she had the cutest sneeze in the world? Or why listen to the teacher when he could watch her absent-mindedly braid a small section of her hair? Why pay attention to where he was going in the hallway when Wendy showed up to school in a new skirt that was a little shorter than what she usually went with? Why bother with the world when he could be admiring Wendy and her adorable laugh and beautiful eyes and-

"You're in Neverland, aren't you?" Ned questioned. Peter's cheeks burned bright red. Neverland was what Ned called the place that Peter's Wendy obsession took him. It was easy to see when he slipped into Neverland because he smiled this lazy, oblivious smile like everything in the world was good and right. That was the 'darling' smile.

"I kissed Wendy as Spider-Man," Peter confessed in a hushed tone. Ned nearly fell off the bench.

The shorter boy told hold of his arm and shook it desperately. "Dude! You did it! It only took you four or five years but you did it!" Peter swatted his best friend who's excitement was garnering unwanted attention from surrounding tables. Of course, Ned would be nothing but happy for him because Ned was the one who had to listen to most of Peter's Wendy rants. His Wendy rants often included the phrases "I don't get why she hates me" and "She's so pretty" and "Did you see what she was wearing today? She looked amazing."

"Not good, Ned!" Peter muttered, ducking his head. "What am I supposed to do?"

Ned looked perplexed at Peter's panic. "Uh, go back and kiss her again? And then kiss her more and then get laid? That's how these things work, right?" Peter had to remind himself that Ned had nothing but good intentions. Ned saw this as 'Hell yeah, Peter got to make out with his crush!' when he should've seen it as 'Peter now has to solve a moral dilemma and decide whether or not he'll sacrifice integrity for the chance to feel up his crush!'

For a moment, Peter debated texting Happy for advice or trying to get in touch with Tony. And then he realized they'd probably chew him out for visiting her as Spider-Man in the first place. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. His uncle Ben told him once that with great power comes great responsibility.

This probably wasn't what he meant, but the quote applied all the same, right?

Peter sighed and met Ned's gaze. "Are you okay with being friends with a horrible person?"

Ned beamed with a nonchalant shrug. "Hey, if that horrible person likes Star Wars, is Spider-Man, and isn't a virgin, I can make it work."


	14. decisions!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "her heart was all-set for takeoff..."

Wendy opened her window just in case.

It was unlikely Spider-Man would stop by after that disastrous kiss. Not that it was particularly disastrous from her perspective. In fact, it was so amazing that she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was consuming her every thought. She really couldn't believe this was happening to her. Wendy had always strived to be an independent, badass woman who didn't need a man's approval for validation. Now she was glancing at her window every thirty seconds, waiting for some guy whose face she had never fully seen to slip in and tell her that he enjoyed the kiss and liked her too.

She busied herself with homework, but she really didn't have that much to do. She plopped down at her desk and opened her laptop. She bullshitted around on twitter for a hot second before a rush of inspiration hit her. She bit her lip, suppressing a smile at the thought of kissing Spidey, and opened the song she'd been messing around with for a while. Since no one else was home, she unplugged her headphones and played the current version through her computer's speakers. It was good, but now that she'd had her first kiss and understood the joy of romance, she realized it needed more oomph.

Before she knew it, she'd spent forty-five minutes reworking the track and messing around with the instrumentation. Scratching the side of her nose, she played the new version on blast. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, swaying slightly to the beat. She couldn't stop smiling. The lyrics just reminded her of days spent with her Peter Pan, lying on her bed and filling out sudoku puzzles or snacking while talking about anything and everything.

She didn't have an opportunity to wonder if Spider-Man was ever coming back because a voice sounded beside her, "Is that you singing?"

She screamed and nearly fell out of her chair. In seconds, Spidey was by her side, helping her back into her seat. He had his mask pulled up over his mouth again. He sat on the window mantle once he was sure she was stable. They stared at each other for a few moments. Wendy wasn't sure what to say. The last time they saw each other, they'd made out and then he ran away.

"Yes," she stated. He tilted his head. She paused the song. "Yeah, that's me singing. I wrote the song and I created the track. All of it."

"Wow," he gasped. She grinned. There was nothing quite like impressing a superhero. "That's so cool! What's it called?"

She froze. Oh yeah. Her song needed a proper name. The working title was 'but why ribCAGE.' She'd been inspired to write the first few lyrics thanks to a sleepover all the way back in sixth grade, when Erin had suddenly sat up, paused _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , and asked, "Why are they called rib cages? Cages are usually meant to keep something in, right? What are our ribs keeping in?" That was back before Angie or Margot or Michelle, back when Wendy and Erin kept the company of girls like Kate Bishop.

"No Words," she decided.

He smiled at her. "I like it a lot." _I like you a lot._

"I'm assuming you saw me in the headlines," she joked, switching to an open tab of some article claiming she was just some girl looking for attention. "Fun fact: did you know I baited those boys into almost raping me so I could be more interesting? Well, neither did I. Thanks for the enlightenment mattstatic037. Oh, and thanks to xtina11, I now know that I also did this all for the cash. Because, as we all know, witnesses get paid for releasing statements."

"Ignore them," Spidey insisted, pushing her hand aside and closing the tab for her. "They're just vultures looking for someone to rip apart to make themselves feel better."

She laughed and leaned back in her seat. "Well, I hope it's working for them because I personally feel like shit. I've had to mute words on Instagram and Twitter so I won't see all the nasty comments. I even went private on Insta and they're still somehow getting in. I think some of them go to school with me. I don't get why they don't just walk up and call me an attention-seeking slut to my face."

Spidey opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could speak. "And those who don't hate me pity me and see me as fragile so that's great. Really loving being treated like a porcelain doll. My aunt forced me into signing up for self-defense classes so that'll be less time to myself. Oh, and to top it all, the cream of the crop, I worked up the courage to kiss the guy I liked and he ran away like a bitch baby." She sent him a pointed look. What she could see of his cheeks burned bright red.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. Then he paused and asked, "Wait, did you say _liked?"_

"You sound awfully upset for some reason," she quipped. She sighed. "Look, I get it. You're not into me. You could've been a little nicer about it."

He stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "What? Are you kidding? I'm into you. I'm so into you. I'm into you too much. Way too much." Holy shit. He liked her. He liked her back. Her heart was all-set for takeoff, but she stopped herself from getting too excited.

"What do you mean 'too much?'" she questioned, suddenly very aware that they'd been moving closer to each other this entire time.

He shifted uncomfortably. "If we...you'd be in danger. I have enemies."

She raised an eyebrow. "We literally met because some guys were trying to rape me."

"More danger. A-and the power dynamic-"

"What power dynamic?" If he wanted to debate, fine. Wendy loved debating. She was amazing at it too. The only reason she wasn't killing it on the debate team was that it interfered with cheer and dance and those were kind of her everything. Until Spidey saved, that is.

He seemed annoyed. "I'm a superhero and I-I saved you. I mean, that's- isn't that weird?"

She leaned back in her chair and smirked. "Nope. Bold of you to claim the title of superhero, by the way. Personally, I think you're a vigilante at best."

"Rude," he scoffed, "and Tony Stark would beg to differ."

"This isn't a rap song, sweetie, there's no need to name drop," she snarked. "By the by, you're not really furthering your argument."

He threw his hands up in irritation. "Well, I'm not good at debate, okay?" There was a moment where they didn't talk and all that could be heard was Wendy's song, stuck on a loop. Spidey rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you really not think of me as a superhero?"

She bit her lip. "Not really. I mean, if anything, you're a thief."

"A thief?" he repeated incredulously. "How? What?"

She jabbed her finger in his direction, fighting to keep the corners of her lips turned down. "You stole my first kiss."

"You kissed me," he argued. "Wait, that was your first kiss? How? You're so...how?" She laughed. She could see the tension leave his body. Wendy realized then that she really didn't like fighting with him. She didn't want to ever fight with him. Not as friends or as lovers or anything.

"I'm flattered," she giggled. "My mom used to say that boys found me intimidating and that's why none of them liked me."

"I highly doubt none of them liked you," Spidey said, narrowing his eyes slightly. "And honestly, I agree. You are intimidating. I kind of love it, though." Wendy rolled her eyes and rose from her chair, pushing it aside so she had room to stand. She laid her hands on either side of Spidey's body and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"W-What are you doing?" he stuttered, looking absolutely panicked but leaning in all the same.

She shrugged and ran her fingers down his jaw, tracing the shape like she was trying to memorize it. "You don't want to risk a relationship with me. Fine. I respect that. But I deserve a better first kiss." She brought her other hand under his chin and closed the space between them. 

The moment their lips crashed together she felt a rush of electricity flutter through her body. Kissing him was so goddamn addictive. It wasn't that either of them was particularly good at kissing - not that she really knew what qualified as good. It was more of the sensation of being so close, feeling him move under her, their skin pressed together, the delicious warmth of another person. Even when their teeth knocked for a second, she was so high on just touching him and being with him that it didn't matter. 

What mattered was his arms around her waist and his lips opening just enough for her tongue to slip inside. What mattered was them maneuvering from the windowsill to her bed, her hands gripping the back of his suit like a lifeline. What mattered was them finding their rhythm, the lips moving in sync. What mattered was him finding the courage to puts his hands on her ass while she leaned over him, shoving her hands up his mask and entangling her fingers in his hair.

What mattered was, when they eventually stopped making out and he left her room to fulfill his duties as Spider-Man after kissing her goodnight and she sat back down at her desk and re-worked her song until it perfectly reflected just how exhilarating it was to be in a relationship, Wendy was officially Spider-Man's girlfriend.


	15. cheer!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "they were an 'all-for-one-ride-or-die' kind of girl gang."

Wendy didn't have much time to bask in the glow of her new relationship because, as soon as the last bell of the school day rang out, it was time for her to return to cheer.

She had already made her return to dance, which was much easier because dance didn't require much communication. She didn't have to talk to anyone if she didn't want to. She showed up a little late and left quickly to avoid any awkward conversations. Cheer was not like that. Cheer required more communication than Wendy could handle at the moment, but if she wanted to make captain next year, she couldn't stop going. There was only so much that could be excused before they kicked her off the squad.

She arrived early and changed into her gear while everyone else was still at their lockers and chatting with their friends. She helped set-up and then stretched as she waited for the rest of the squad to get ready. When they were done, Erin and Angie flanked her sides as an extra layer of protection. Her friends were god tier.

Despite her worry, it actually went pretty okay. They were all so focused on practicing and perfecting their school spirit routine for the homecoming pep rally that no one paid too much attention to her. It wasn't until the end that anyone talked to her.

Mrs. Wayland pulled her aside. "Hey, um, I'm not gonna ask you how you are, because I'm sure you're getting enough of that as it is. I just wanted to know if you had any ideas for our second pep rally routine."

Wendy nearly smacked her own forehead. She completely forgot Mrs. Wayland had asked her to brainstorm concepts for their other routine. It was her way of testing out whether Wendy was captain material. She had really screwed up.

"It's okay if you forgot," Mrs. Wayland said quickly. "Obviously you've had a lot going on-"

"Give me another week and I'm sure I'll come up with a killer routine for us," Wendy interjected. She checked her phone. If she rushed home, she could probably open her window in time for Spidey to stop by. Mrs. Wayland thanked her and walked away.

Erin hurried to Wendy's side, asking, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just in charge of the second routine," the blonde answered absent-mindedly, going through a few Twitter notifications before tucking her phone back into her pocket.

Angie was right on Erin's heels. She was nibbling on her bottom lip. "Do you want any help? You and Erin could come over and we could work on something."

"It's cool, I got it," Wendy assured them, running her fingers through her hair. "I appreciate the offer, but I can handle it."

"Well, you guys should still come over sometime," Angie said. "The whole gang. We haven't done a sleepover in _forever_. Maybe this weekend?"

Erin grinned. "That'd be dope. I've missed hanging out with y'all."

Wendy shrugged. "Um, I'll think about it." Her friends stopped and turned to look at her like she grew eight heads. She blushed and added, "It's just that Spider-Man said he wanted to take me swinging this weekend - like swinging through the city? We're trying to conquer my fear of heights."

"Are you seriously picking Spider-Man over us?" Erin questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it's not like that," the small blonde stammered, adjusting her grip on her gym bag. "Oh my god, I completely forgot to tell you guys, I've been so anxious about getting back into cheer. Last night, Spidey asked me to be his girlfriend and of course, I said yes."

Angie didn't seem all that impressed. "Oh, so you're picking your boyfriend over us?"

"Look, babe, we're happy for you, but you've been spending all your time with Spider-Man," Erin chimed in as she laid a hand on Wendy's shoulder. "I get that he saved you, and we can't possibly understand what that's like, but we want to spend time with our girl." She and Angie wrapped an arm around Wendy and squeezed her tight.

Wendy laughed. "You're right. Okay, so I'll tell Spidey it can wait and I'll ask my parents if we can hang out."

"Speaking of the 'rents, how are they handling everything?" Angie inquired. "It's definitely going a lot better than I would imagine. I half-expected your dad to put you on house arrest."

"Oh, he was tempted," Wendy chuckled, shaking her head as she searched herself for a way to talk about the subject without bursting into tears. "Uh, they've been incredibly supportive, which is great. Sometimes, though, I'll catch them looking at me with tears in their eyes. Oh, and I have an official curfew now and they're home a lot more often. I think they're still kind of in shock. I think my mom's pissed that she found out through the Daily Bugle and not from me. She also keeps asking me if I want a therapist. Oh, and Dad doesn't really look me in the eyes anymore."

Erin winced. "Yikes. Well, in that case, we definitely need to hang out and party hard this weekend." The three girls linked arms and walked through the hallways like a solid wall of friendship. Wendy beamed.

She used to be so worried what her friends thought, way back in middle school. Now she had friends she knew would never leave her and would stick by her through thick and thin. She was really, truly blessed to have such an incredible support system. She never had to go through anything alone. Margot, Angie, Erin, and MJ would never allow it. They were an 'all-for-one-ride-or-die' kind of girl gang.

Wendy couldn't help but feel bad. She'd been so preoccupied with Spidey that she hadn't been giving her amazing friends the attention and love they deserved. This weekend would change all that, she decided. She was going to make sure they knew just how much they meant to her. She was going to get all mushy and sentimental. She was going to let them in on everything. Most importantly, she was going to have fun.

She liked to think she'd earned that.


	16. sleepover!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she'd needed this more than she realized."

Wendy's parents were surprisingly okay with the idea of her going to Angie's house for a sleepover.

She supposed it had a lot to do with Angie's parents' occupation. They were both decorated officers of the NYPD. Wendy's parents knew she was safe in their hands. They also knew Wendy's friends weren't the type to sneak out of the house and do something stupid. Erin and Wendy, maybe, but Margot and Angie were too goody-goody to allow such a thing. MJ's stance differed on the day and the phase of the moon.

So, on Saturday at 6 pm, Wendy's mom dropped her off at Angie's house with a duffel bag full of clothes, makeup, various charging cords, and whatever else she could think. Wendy waved at Angie's parents before excusing herself to the newly redone basement, where Erin, Angie, and MJ sat on bean bag chairs.

"Where's Margot?" Wendy asked, letting her duffel bag slide off her arm. She flopped down onto her usual pink bean bag chair.

Erin paused in painting Angie's nails to answer. "She had to work today. She'll be here at 6:30."

"We're gonna get pizza," Angie said, eyeing Erin's design. MJ was reading a book Ms. Creevey had recommended to her. Generic pop music played in the background as Wendy perused the DVD collection for any new additions. At 6:30, Margot arrived alongside the pizza. At 7:43, the girls changed into their pajamas. At 8:30, Angie's parents went to bed.

At 8:57, the girls broke out the alcohol.

"So, tell us all about Spider-Man," Margot urged, draining the contents of her red solo cup. Ariana Grande pumped throughout the basement. They were gathered in a circle around the pile of snacks they'd amassed.

Wendy sucked cheeto dust off her thumb. "He's...amazing."

"I can't believe you're dating him," MJ said as she dragged a chip through sour cream and onion dip. "Like, you're dating an actual superhero."

"If I could date any superhero, I would date the fuck out of Thor," Erin slurred. She was a total lightweight. Two drinks in and she was wasted.

Angie shook her head. "No, no, Captain America's where it's at. I mean, have you seen him? That's a face I could sit on." Her friends made various noises of disgust and protest.

"Black Widow is hot but I feel like she would murder me," Margot commented, sitting up. "Scarlet Witch is also hot, but I know she would accidentally kill me. Like, with Black Widow, it'd be on purpose, but Scarlet Witch, I'd like make her orgasm and her powers would go on the fritz and that would be the end of me." Wendy fake-vomited. MJ nodded solemnly.

Erin shoved a stack of nachos into her mouth and asked, "Do you think Spider-Man ejaculates his webs?"

"Okay, a. I hate you," Wendy exclaimed, hurling a pillow at Erin's head, "and b. his webs aren't organic. He makes them and shoots them using these little guns on his wrists. He showed me the web-shooters but he won't tell me the formula for the webbing."

"You guys haven't done it yet, right?" Angie questioned.

Wendy shook her head, took another sip of her vodka concoction, and replied, "No, I'm not gonna have sex with him until I know what he looks like."

Just like that, her four friends simultaneously choked.

Margot went red in the face and coughed out, "You don't know what he looks like?"

"We're not on that level yet," Wendy explained. They stared at her like she'd lost her goddamn mind or started speaking in German. She finished off her drink and rolled her eyes. "Guys, it's really not that big of a deal."

"So you guys are on the heavy-petting level, but not the know-what-he-looks-like level?" Angie deadpanned.

Wendy scoffed. "We're not on the heavy-petting level. We _just_ started dating. We've known each other less than a month. Why is it so surprising that he doesn't trust me that much yet? I mean, I'm still in shock that he's let me see the lower half of his face!"

"Well, you need to see that half if you're gonna make out," Erin said matter-of-factly. "Wait, how old is he?"

"High school, like us," the only blonde in the room answered. "He says he's a junior."

MJ raised her eyebrows. "Wow. That's young for a superhero."

"He's still pretty low-level," Angie pointed out. "I mean, no offense to your boyf, but he's more Daredevil status than Iron Man status, y'know?"

Wendy waved a dismissive hand. "It's chill. I tease him about it all the time." The girls laughed. Wendy looked around the room at her friends. She'd really missed this. Just being with them and laughing and feeling happy. She'd needed this more than she realized. As if sensing her thoughts, Margot wrapped an arm around Wendy and squeezed.

Angie clapped her hands together. "We ready for the movie?"

"As long as it's not Shrek," Erin sighed. Angie's smile vanished and she pouted.

Margot bounced in her spot, crowing, "High School Musical! High School Musical!"

"What about Lemonade Mouth?" MJ suggested as she scooped up salsa with a tortilla chip.

Wendy raised her hand. "I wanna watch Mamma Mia." The group was silent as they looked at each other. They were at a crossroads, it seemed. Wendy held her breath. A part of her worried they would go with Mamma Mia because Wendy wanted it and Wendy was the poor damaged assault victim. So far, her friends hadn't treated her any differently, but the fear still lived in the back of her mind, plaguing her thoughts.

A smirk curled Angie's lips. "You know what, ladies? If we play our cards right, we can watch all of them tonight." The girls cheered and high-fived each other.

Erin raised a single finger to quiet them. "All of them, except Shrek."

"Hey now," Wendy interjected. "You're an all-star. And you can't say no to Shrek." Erin made a noncommittal noise of agreement and another cheer rose up amongst them.

MJ grinned. "Let's fucking do this."


	17. party time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she couldn't help but constantly be in awe of liz."

Wendy never thought she'd be at another Liz Toomes party in her lifetime, but here she was.

It was to celebrate the decathlon's upcoming competition in Washington D.C. They'd made it to nationals and as team captain, Liz wanted them to let off some steam before diving back into intense studying. It was a smaller party than usual, but the house was still crowded.

Wendy wasn't going to go until Liz told her she had personally seen to it that a distinguished town car service would be escorting anyone home that didn't have a ride and alcohol consumption would be limited. "3 drinks max," Liz had promised. "It's going to be a safe, fun time."

So, with her entire squad around to protect her, Wendy showed up to the Toomes household at 9:30 pm. Her parents had only agreed to let her go because it was Liz and Liz, in their eyes and in the eyes of most everyone who knew her, was perfect and could do no wrong. Wendy understood that feeling. She couldn't help but constantly be in awe of Liz. She was still in shock that they were friends.

As soon as Wendy stepped inside, Liz was hugging her.

"I'm so glad you came!" Liz gushed, pulling away and cupping Wendy's cheeks. "You have no idea how much this means to me, babe."

Wendy giggled and took Liz's hands in hers. "Well, this better be good, Toomes. I canceled plans with Spider-Man to come to this shindig."

"Which reminds me," Liz squealed, throwing her arm around Wendy's shoulders, "I want all the details. Ladies, this way."

Liz, Wendy, Margot, Angie, Erin, and MJ set up shop in the kitchen by the snacks and drinks. Betty Brant joined them after a few minutes, followed by a few girls on the cheer squad. Erin, Liz, and Angie were eager to show off the drink machine they'd designed. In order to get a drink, you had to do a thumbprint ID. After three drinks, the machine refused to serve you.

"You guys really are geniuses," Wendy sighed, admiring their work. "You should patent this and sell it."

Margot nodded. "Seriously. This could save lives, y'know? Fuck alcohol poisoning lives, Erin, Liz, and Angie are skinny."

MJ shook her head. "I hate you for saying that. But good job guys."

The cluster of girls huddled up in the corner and pestered Wendy to spill details on her new beau, Spider-Man. The news had spread around school thanks to Angie's inability to whisper. Everything was fine and dandy and fun. It felt weirdly good to make her audience shriek with every new story Wendy told about Spidey. A part of her felt guilty like she was exploiting her Peter Pan by telling her friends everything.

And then she got to thinking. Did Spider-Man talk about her to his friends? Who were his friends? The Avengers? Apparently, Peter was one of them. Did Peter know Spider-Man's secret identity? He had to if he worked at Stark Industries.

Someone screamed and Wendy just about jumped out of her skin.

Betty scowled. "What was that?"

Kaya, a girl on the cheer squad, rolled her eyes. "It's the boys. Flash Thompson bet no one could beat him in arm wrestling."

Instantly, Wendy's interest was piqued. Bet, huh? It was well known she was the queen of bets. She wondered if he was baiting her. He did that sometimes. He seemed to think they were friends because they both hated Peter Parker. It was quite the opposite, actually. Wendy was the only one allowed to fuck with Peter.

She smirked. "Challenge accepted."

"Oh yes, please knock his ego down a peg," Liz begged with a soft groan. "He thinks he's the shit now that he's on the team when he's only on because Peter quit."

"Peter's been so weird lately," Margot observed, absentmindedly taking a sip of her drink. "He quit a ton of stuff, didn't he?"

Jess, who sat behind Wendy in bio, smirked and said, "He's probably upset because the love of his life got a boyfriend."

"Who?" Wendy pressed. The bet could temporarily wait. She was always a slut for gossip. Jess looked at Wendy like she was crazy and then exchanged looks with equally bewildered Betty and Kaya. Liz, Angie, and Erin were hurriedly gulping down their drinks to avoid answering. Margot and MJ suddenly became interested in finding the bottom of the salsa bowl.

"You," Jess said simply. Wendy laughed and waited for the real answer, but it never came.

"Peter Parker hates me just like I hate him," she insisted. "It's an observable fact. But enough about Peter. It's time to make Flash look like an idiot." A cheer rose up amongst the girls. Wendy excused herself from their huddle and walked into the living room, where Flash and the boys had taken over the dining table for their wrestling purposes.

She sauntered up like the best gunslinger in the wild west arriving to a gunfight. She smirked and plopped down opposite Flash.

He grinned. "Finally. I was starting to think you'd never show."

"Don't be stupid," she teased. "I'd never miss an opportunity to embarrass you in front of the masses."

John from trig called out, "It's not a fair fight! He's cheating, I know it."

"Shut your trap," Flash snapped. Wendy chuckled and shook her head playfully. She patted the table, batting her eyelids at him. He matched her sneaky smile. He rested his elbow on the table and extended his hand. She followed suit, grabbing his hand. It was slimy and sweaty, just as she expected.

He tried to intertwine their fingers and she pretended to vomit. Their crowd was loving this. She heard whispers of bets, people putting money on her or Flash. Margot, ever the supportive friend, stepped forward and tied Wendy's hair up in a ponytail for her.

Wendy cracked her neck as Lydia, the cheer captain, counted them down.

"3, 2, 1, go!"


	18. bet!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she was wendy fucking carter."

It took less than ten seconds for Wendy to slam Flash's hand to the table.

The crowd lost their minds. Flash's face fell. Clearly, he hadn't expected such a quick loss. Wendy smirked. She'd always been strong thanks to a lifetime of gymnastics. One of her most vivid memories from her childhood was the time she lifted the couch so her mom could vacuum underneath and her dad screaming because he was sitting on the couch.

Flash scowled, standing up and shaking his hand out. "Damn, Wendy, you're freakishly strong." The football team was howling with laughter.

David Olivera shook his head and wiped tears from his eyes. "Come on, dude, you got beat by a cheerleader!"

"What, you think you could do any better?" Flash snapped; He shoved David, who barely budged. Wendy might've giggled if she wasn't so irritated. What, just because she was a cheerleader that meant she had to be some weak, docile thing? She was Wendy fucking Carter. She was related to the founder of SHIELD and a CIA agent who'd taken down more bad guys than the public was allowed to know about. She was related to a genius doctor who was told she would flunk out of med school and instead became valedictorian. She was a talented gymnast and dancer with an IQ of 182. Not to mention, she'd recently been enrolled in the best self-defense classes New York had to offer.

Obviously, not all cheerleaders were Wendy. No one was like Wendy. But being a cheerleader required more strength than being a football player. Cheerleaders literally lift each other into the air and, depending on your position in the pyramid, can support up to 6 other cheerleaders. That's strength, bitch.

Wendy tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. _Do_ you think you can do any better?"

"Is that a challenge, Carter?" David teased. He stole Flash's seat and rested his elbow on the table. "Say the word and I'll go easy on you." She leaned in. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and it curdled her stomach. She didn't exactly want to make him angry, but she couldn't back down now.

Wendy forced a smirk. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing." The crowd 'ooh'ed. She plopped her elbow on the table, grabbed David's hand, and, as soon as Lydia finished the countdown, overpowered him and smashed his hand down to the table.

Soon enough, nearly every boy at the party had formed a line to challenge her, all sure they could be the one to end her winning streak. And they were all wrong. She's stronger than all of them. The line thinned as the night waned on. Eventually, she had defeated every boy...except Ned Leeds and Peter Parker. Ned declined a match, citing that he could barely lift a jar of mayo.

"What about you Parker?" she asked, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest. "You wanna wrestle?"

"I'm good," he said. He looked uncomfortable. The thought of him being uncomfortable shot a thrill through her.

"Someone's chicken," Flash jeered. "Come on, Penis Parker, you're not even gonna try?" Wendy's smile dropped. She thought she'd made it pretty clear to Flash that Peter was off limits. Only she could pick on him.

Peter shifted in his spot. "Why bother? I'm just gonna lose."

Flash rolled his eyes and turned to the crowd. "When I say Penis, you say Parker! Peni-"

"Shut the fuck up Flash," Wendy snapped, eyes narrowed. "Just because you lack a certain appendage doesn't mean you have to point out Peter's." Everyone at the party looked torn between laughter and intrigue. She could guess what they were thinking. Why was Wendy defending Peter?

Honestly, she wasn't sure why.

Peter sighed and sat down across from Wendy. "Okay, fine. Let's wrestle." They got into position. Wendy wrapped her hand around Peter and smiled condescendingly. Peter shot her a little wink. Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. Okay, weird.

Within .75 seconds of the countdown ending, Peter's hand was smashed to the table. Wendy frowned. That was way too easy. Was he holding back? That piece of shit was holding back, wasn't he? That was the probably the rudest thing he'd ever done. She didn't need to be coddled.

Peter stood from his seat and tried to leave, but before he could, she'd snatched his wrist. His eyes widened. The crowd went silent in confusion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angie shaking her head disappointedly. 

Peter furrowed his brow. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Put some goddamn effort into it, you little shit," she growled.

Peter sighed. "Wendy, you won. Let it go."

"I don't need to be coddled!" she exclaimed. "Now are you gonna do this for real, and am I gonna have to raise the stakes?" That piqued his interest. He exchanged looks with Ned before reclaiming his seat. Wendy grinned. He was just as easily baited as her.

"What are the stakes?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She smiled. "It's fairly simple. I win, I get what I want. You win, you get what you want."

"And what do you want?"

She leaned forward and stared into his eyes with as piercing a gaze as she could manage. "I want to know Spider-Man's secret identity." His jaw dropped and she almost giggled. Man, she loved fucking with him. She would never get sick of the look on his face when she surprised him.

"What do I get if I win?" he questioned, suddenly avoiding looking at her.

"Whatever you want, Parker."

Something passed over Peter's face like he'd had a revelation. He smirked at her. "I want a kiss. From you." Her heart dropped into her stomach. All she could think about was what Jess said about her being the love of being Peter's life.

Wendy shrugged. "Whatever. You're not gonna win anyway." They got into position. Lydia began her countdown and Wendy briefly thought about yanking her hand away and just leaving the party. Her heart was hammering furiously in her chest.

Lydia called out, "Go!" and it was _on._


	19. uh oh!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "peter and spider-man are lovers?"

Wendy's second mistake was expecting an easy win.

She thought it'd be about the same as all the other matches. How strong could Peter even be? It turned out just as strong as Wendy. He caught her off-guard and almost took her down within the first few seconds. She gritted her teeth and forced him over to her side. He pushed against her.

Her first mistake had been setting stakes, to begin with. A mistake she didn't realize until she was struggling to slam his hand to the table. She was too overconfident, too cocky. She should've expected Peter to have some kind of trick up his sleeve. Their hands quickly grew clammy as they wrestled for dominance. She decided to try something else.

She stared directly into his eyes. Maybe some intimidation would knock him out of the running. Their gazes locked. There was something in his eyes she'd never seen before. Desperation. It was then she realized that Peter had been entrusted with Spider-Man's identity by either Tony Stark or Spidey himself. It was probably in his contract with Stark Labs. He could get into serious trouble for revealing Spidey's identity. Not to mention there was a reason Spidey hadn't told her his identity yet. Was she betraying him by making this deal with Peter?

But didn't Wendy deserve to know who she was letting into her room every day and kissing for hours on end?

Wendy's third mistake was feeling bad for Peter because, at that moment, he slammed her hand to the table.

The crowd went silent. Everyone knew what that victory meant. It meant Wendy Carter had to kiss the guy she'd hated since middle school. It meant Spider-Man's supposed girlfriend was going to kiss Penis Parker. It meant Wendy Carter lost a bet. No one could think of the words to say. Wendy had never lost a bet.

Until now.

Wendy, with a steady calmness that had sent terror through many's hearts before, rose from her seat and excused herself to the bathroom. Once the door was locked and she was sure no one had followed her, Wendy grabbed fistfuls of her hair and screamed. What had she been thinking? She was so dumb. She wasn't allowed to be dumb. She had to be smarter, faster, better than everyone else. That's what was expected of her.

And she disappointed everyone.

Wendy sat down on the plush carpet and fought the urge to vomit. She'd lost a bet. She never lost bets. There it went, another part of her identity stolen by Peter Parker. This was her own personal hell. She'd been embarrassed in front of all of her friends, the cheer squad, the football team - everyone. She could never show her face in school again. Part of her badass persona had been stripped from her. Would anyone take her seriously?

There was a knock at the door. She startled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her makeup was running. She sniffled and stood up. She rinsed her hands off quickly before calling out, "Hello?"

There was a pause and then, "Wendy, it's Peter." He sighed so forcefully she heard it through the door. "I know I'm probably the last person you wanna see right now, but we really need to talk." She bit her bottom lip and debated her options. She could let him in and let him see what a mess she was, or she could tell him to fuck off.

For some inane reason, she let him in.

He slipped inside the bathroom. The second he caught sight of her he surged forward and took her face in his hands. She flinched but didn't move away. He wiped tears from the corners of her eyes with one thumb while the other absent-mindedly stroked her cheek. His touch was warm and so strangely familiar. Their eyes met and he leaned in just the slightest.

The moment shattered and Wendy felt a rush of burning anger. She pulled Peter's hands off her face and scowled. "You know for someone who claims to be so close with Spider-Man you sure are eager to kiss his girlfriend." His face fell.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "It was just a dumb joke. You don't - You don't - You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "We made a bet and I lost. Now I have to pay the price. That's how this shit works."

"Seriously, Wendy, you don't-"

"No!" she interjected. He froze. She leaned in. "You wanted a kiss. I'll give you a kiss." She pulled his face towards her and smashed her lips against his. She expected it to be awkward and clumsy. She expected Peter to not know what he was doing - after all, who'd be willing to kiss him? But for some inexplicable reason, they fell into sync. His hands cupped her face delicately. It was like he knew what she liked. The tip of his tongue swept her bottom lip. Wait-

She gasped and pulled away. Peter looked dazed. Speechless, she pushed past him. She had her hand on the doorknob when he reached out and grabbed her arm so gently she almost didn't feel it. She turned her head, panting slightly, her cheeks flushed.

He licked his lips (the same lips she'd just kissed) and cleared his throat. "Wendy, please, we need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Wendy mumbled. With that, she rushed out of the bathroom and into the living room. Everyone seemed to have moved on - Liz, genius as always, had asked Flash to DJ and now most everyone was dancing and therefore paying no attention to Wendy. Her friends swarmed her within seconds.

"You okay?" MJ asked, throwing an arm around Wendy's shoulders. Wendy shook her head.

Liz nodded solemnly. "I'll call a car."

Moments later, Wendy and her girl gang excluding Liz were crammed into a sleek black town car. Wendy rested her head on Margot's shoulder and tried to focus on the music seeping through the speakers. When they got to Margot's apartment, her grandma let them in before going to bed. Erin, Angie, and Margot worked on getting out all the ingredients for the cupcakes they'd planned to bake. MJ and Wendy sat at the counter, MJ calling out ingredients while Wendy stared intently at the granite countertop.

"What's up with you?" Erin questioned once the cupcakes had officially been started. "You haven't said a word since we left the party. Did something happen with Peter?"

Angie's head shot up from the bowl of sugar, eggs, and butter. "Did he hurt you?"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed, panic shooting through her. "I - can I rant?"

"Go off, baby girl," MJ encouraged with a wink.

Wendy stood up from her seat and started pacing to expel some nervous energy. She really didn't want to say it out loud. If it was said out loud, it was suddenly far more real. If she kept her mouth shut, it would stay in her head as just some stupid thought. 

She took a deep breath. It rushed out of her all at once. "Remember Liz's party that Spider-Man was supposed to come to? Someone roofied my drink and I barely remember any of it and that was one of the reasons I was so pissed at Peter and I really don't want to talk about that, okay? And the basketball party? I only went and drank to get my mind off of Peter."

"You were that mad?" Erin prompted.

Wendy shook her head. "No. I wasn't mad at Peter. I was mad at myself because, and please don't make fun of me for this, I was kind of developing this weird crush on him. And now I'm moving on with Spider-Man but I just kissed Peter at the party-"

"Why?" Angie interrupted.

"I don't know!" Wendy cried out. "I don't know why I kissed him! But I did and as we were kissing I realized that he kisses, tastes, and feels exactly like Spider-Man." The room went silent. Her friends exchanged looks. They were all smart girls. They knew what Wendy was implying.

Margot gasped. "Peter and Spider-Man are lovers?"

Okay, maybe not all of them knew what Wendy was implying.

"No, you useless lesbian," MJ sighed. "She's saying she thinks Peter is Spider-Man. And it would make sense. The Stark internship-"

"The poem," added Erin as she stirred the cupcake batter.

"Why Peter's been so weird lately," Angie said.

Wendy slammed her hands on the counter. "Stop! I don't want to talk about this. I-I don't want to think about this! I can't - I can't handle this right now, okay? I can't deal with this on top of everything else so can we please just leave it alone?"

Her friends dropped the subject, but it plagued Wendy the rest of the night. Deep in her chest, she knew the oh-so-inconvenient truth. But she didn't want to know. So she buried it in the back of her mind and immersed herself in her friends.

Knowing all the while she was only preventing the inevitable.


	20. pity!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "wendy was a mess."

The next week, after the Decathlon team had won their meet and nearly died, it was once again time for cheer.

Wendy was a mess. Every nerve in her body was being plucked like a guitar string, sending vibrations and anxiety through her small frame. She still hadn't been able to come up with a solid second routine for the pep rally. She had a lot of ideas, but that was it. Mrs. Wayland was counting on her for this but on top of schoolwork and the Peter Parker debacle, she couldn't focus on cheer for longer than five minutes. 

Once everyone had gotten changed and had settled down enough for Mrs. Wayland to be heard over them, she clapped her hands together. "Alright, ladies, gents, and non-binary friends, before we get started, let's talk ideas for our second routine. Wendy?"

The tiny blonde gulped but forced a smile. "I don't have anything definite, but I know I want it to be badass and sleek. I just need the right song."

"I was thinking more of an emotional approach," Mrs. Wayland commented and Wendy's face fell. Awesome. There really was no better feeling than having your ideas shot down in front of everyone. Mrs. Wayland shifted uncomfortably in her spot and added, "What about Praying by Kesha?"

It took a few moments for Wendy's mind to reboot.

She knew exactly why Mrs. Wayland suggested that song. Everyone knew. It wasn't the slightest bit subtle. Wendy's blood began to boil. Praying was a beautiful song, truly, but it was about Kesha finding it within her heart to forgive her rapist, and Mrs. Wayland wanted them to perform it because Wendy got sexually harassed by boys she never intended to forgive? It felt dirty. It felt exploitive.

"Wow, I wonder where that idea came from," Wendy said, her words clipped and evenly measured. "We're not doing Praying. We're not taking a song like that and making it about me. We're not making any of this about me!" She turned on her heel and stormed out, grabbing her duffel bag on the way. Mrs. Wayland called out after her, but her friends shushed her.

Wendy stormed down the hallway. She was done with cheer. How dare Mrs. Wayland say that? How dare she? What was wrong with her? It was so fucked up. She wasn't even thinking about Wendy, she was thinking about the headlines. 'Kind cheer coach composes routine to Kesha's 'Praying' to show support for Wendy Carter, an alleged victim of sexual harassment.' It would make Mrs. Wayland look good and woke, right?

Wendy was so full of blinding rage that she didn't see where she was going and smacked into Peter Parker.

He reached out and grabbed her shoulders to steady her. She pushed him off, scowling. She didn't want to see Peter or think about Peter.

"Wendy!" he exclaimed, a warm look in his eyes. "I was actually looking for you."

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why?" He smiled shyly as he ducked his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and lifted himself up on his tiptoes, which only infuriated Wendy further. Who did he think he was, coming up to her and making himself even taller and looking so cute-

She almost vomited. Did she just think of Peter as cute? Fuck. It was happening again. Those weird feelings were coming back. She didn't want them back. Why was Peter so annoying?

He fought a blush. "I want to ask you to homecoming."

Wendy nearly did a double take. "Why would we go to homecoming together? We _hate_ each other. Is this about the kiss? Because I obviously didn't mean it."

He winced. "No, it's not about the kiss. Wen-"

"Is this a joke then?" she interjected. "Because if it is, it's not funny. Are you seriously fucking with me right now?"

"No!" he exclaimed, growing frustrated. He looked like he was restraining himself. He had this sad look in his eyes. That's when it clicked. Wendy, who was not at all the religious type, looked to the sky and prayed for some entity to strike her down where she stood so she didn't have to deal with this.

"You're doing this out of pity," she said, trying to fight tears. "What? Did you figure no one was going to ask me to homecoming because I'm tainted or cursed now and you felt sorry for me? Because that might be some of the rudest bullshit you've ever pulled, Parker."

He growled, "That's not it!"

"Whatever, I'm done," she spat, pushing past him. He called out after her and asked her to please just stop so they could talk. She kept moving, stopping only to get her stuff from her locker, and eventually, she was home. Her dad greeted her with a "Hey" and a donut. She ate it greedily as if demolishing the cream-filled pastry would fix all of her problems. She excused herself to her room. The window was open from Spidey's last visit a few days ago. His visits had gotten fewer and far between, but she told herself it was only because he was working on this big case.

She dropped her stuff on the floor and was about to get changed when none other than Spider-Man himself popped up at her window. Instantly, she smiled. There was just something about seeing him and being with him that made every day good. He slipped inside and she immediately went to him. She just wanted to be in his arms. No, she needed to be in his arms. It was one of the only places she had left that felt safe, as dumb as it sounded.

He stopped her before she could throw herself at him, gripping her shoulders like a lifeline. "We need to talk."


	21. no!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'after a long pause, he reached up and pulled his mask off.'

Deep down, Wendy knew what was coming.

They were silent for a moment. She took a seat on the foot of her bed, the forceful action sending a pencil she'd left on her comforter that morning tumbling to the floor. He examined his hands like he didn't recognize them. After a long pause, he reached up and pulled his mask off. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Standing in front of her was her nemesis since the sixth grade, Peter Parker. And her boyfriend, Spider-Man.

"No," she said.

He shook his head sadly, his eyes brimming with tears. "Wendy-"

"No!" she shouted, jumping up from her seat. "No! This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Tell me this is some kind of fucked up joke."

"It's not a joke, darling," he said. His voice was so soft. So warm and comforting. Her vision blurred. No. This wasn't fair. Couldn't she just get one thing? One pure, uncomplicated thing? Hadn't she earned that? After all her hardships and turmoil, didn't she have the right to something right and good?

She stared daggers at him. "Don't call me that. You don't get to call me that." Was this entire thing some kind of sick plan, some kind of ultimate revenge?

"I've been trying to tell you," he insisted. "I was going to tell you at the party, but then you-" He paused and the ghost of a smile passed over his lips. She grimaced. His smile faded and he moved forward, reaching for her arm.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, falling back on her bed in a desperate attempt to escape him. "Was this-was all of this a joke?"

"No!" he exclaimed. He dropped to his knees and took her hands. "This was never like that. I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I've never meant to hurt you." He took this moment to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Wendy's ear. He was so gentle. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend this was okay. Just another afternoon with Spidey.

Her eyes widened. "Then why?" His cheeks turned bright pink. It was kind of a cute look on him, she observed. She tried to shake the thought away. No. No liking Peter. 

"I've had a crush on you since eighth grade," he admitted. She froze. Wait, what the fuck? He absentmindedly played with her fingers as he confessed, "I only did the talent show because I wanted to impress you. And I only started photography so we'd have something in common. Honestly, I've lost track of all the things I've done just to get you to see me. And the whole time you thought I was conspiring against you." He chuckled, but it lacked humor.

He cleared his throat. "I just liked seeing our names together, you know? And seeing you. And when we would compete, that was the only time you talked to me, so I got more and more competitive and you just got prettier and smarter and more talented so I had to catch up. But I never wanted to compete against you. I just wanted to be with you."

She shook her head, dazed. Her voice came out as a breathy whisper. "Stop. Stop talking."

"I know what I did was wrong," he continued. "I shouldn't have had any kind of relationship with you as Spider-Man when you didn't know the truth but I was just so addicted to you finally liking me and-and getting to kiss you and be with you and care about you the way I always have. And I know that doesn't justify my actions in the slightest. What I did was still super shitty, and I was gonna end it after we first kissed, but you're so magnetic and  _much_  better at debating than I am, and wow, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Wendy was only half-registering his words. Her brain was having trouble processing all of this. So, this entire time she'd thought Peter was an enemy, he was actually just trying to get her attention because he liked her. 

"Why are you doing this right now?" she pressed. Tears traveled down her cheeks. He wiped them away.

He grinned softly, his voice cracking, "Because I want to go to homecoming with you." The air was thick and charged with tension. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. She bit back a sob. All of this, for homecoming?

She cleared her throat. "Get out." His face fell.

"Wendy-"

"Get out!" She shoved him away. She twisted and yanked a pillow from the head of her bed and launched it at him. He was already half-way through the window. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched him leave, his mask in hand. She shot up and crossed her room to the window. The grate laid on the fire escape, covered in leaves and debris. She hadn't even looked at it since Spi- Peter's first visit.

With shaking hands, she picked the grate up. She shook off the debris and carefully put it back into place. She grabbed the lip of her window and pulled it down. She went to twist the locks and hesitated. She felt the ghost of his lips on hers. She scowled and twisted the locks.

Fuck Peter Parker.


	22. emotions!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "he would not ruin her."

Wendy didn't want to go to school, but she did.

Even though going to school meant leaving the safety of her room and changing out of her pajamas. Even though going to school meant having to look presentable and having to do work. Even though going to school meant seeing people. Even though going to school meant seeing Peter.

She dressed a little nicer than normal and took the time to do her makeup - she figured the better she looked, the less likely people would be to ask her if she's okay. She knew she couldn't handle that question today. She tried to avoid talking to people when she first got there. She went straight to her locker. She could feel his eyes on her. Her blood curdled.

She looked over her shoulder to see him watching her from his locker. The bags under his eyes were a lot more prominent than they were last night when he'd whipped off his mask and ruined her life. She got a little bit of a kick out of the idea that he hadn't gotten any sleep. A smirk curled her lips and she flicked her hair over her shoulder. It was then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She was wearing red.

_His lips on her neck, her fists full of fabric, her head tilted back, as he murmured into her skin, "You should wear red more often."_

_Giggling. "Yeah?'_

_"Yeah." Grinning. "Red and blue are the best colors, in my completely unbiased opinion."_

She bit her lip. She hadn't done it on purpose, though maybe some subconscious part of her had. She fought a scowl. Red and blue were Peggy Carter colors. Not Spider-Man colors. He would not ruin them for her. She puffed out her chest, pulled her things from her locker, and slammed it shut.

He would not ruin her.

Any sorrow had been purged from her body, converted into white-hot anger that coursed through her veins and burned in her chest. He spent the entire day looking at her with such a melancholy expression that it took everything within her not to deck him. How dare he be sad? He brought this on himself - on her. This entire disaster was his fault. He didn't have the right to feel sad.

She found herself scribbling down things in a random document on her google drive. Every time he glanced at her, every time he looked away with sad puppy eyes, every time he sighed or just generally breathed, she abused her keyboard to type out a bitter comment, such as:

_sorry i look so good in red ?? not my fault lol_

_mmm bet it feels like shit to see me so composed when you're clearly falling apart congrats you've played yourself_

_lol imagine being so pressed over the fact that we have mutual friends_

_you think you're sad?? have you even stopped to imagine how i feel right now?? smh men are trash!!_

_i'm aware i look good today you can stop ogling me now you've lost your rights lmao_

_why are you so upset i;m acting like nothing happened?? isn't that better for the sake of your secret identity?? have you considered picking a lane??_

_i can tell by the look in your eyes that you miss me and you know what?? i don't blame you. i'm fucking awesome. can't believe you had me and you fucked it up. and don't expect a second chance i've already done so much for charity lol_

Every line eased the pain. Instead of agonizing over being lied to and played like a fiddle, she entertained herself by thinking of how miserable he was. It really helped. It helped so much none of her friends noticed anything was wrong. It helped so much that she felt good again.

He couldn't ruin her, no matter how hard he tried.

Eventually, the lines transitioned into something else. After digging through her computer at lunch and uncovering an old project from her AP music theory class, the snipes and jabs evolved. Her anger evolved. Her emotions fluctuated and by the time cheer rolled around, Wendy wasn't sure what she felt anymore besides excitement because finally, she had an idea for a routine for the pep rally.

She practically danced to cheer. This was it. So many times in her life she'd asked herself why and she thought she finally figured it out. All of it led up to this. This day of emotions and evolution and inspiration. All of the heartache and the tears and the exhaustion was all for this singular moment of, _I am so much more than I thought I was._

Mrs. Wayland approached Wendy looking a little gray in the face. "I'm so sorry about last time. I-have you come up with any solid ideas?"

"I don't have an idea," Wendy retorted. "I have the idea."

Mrs. Wayland's face softened and she gave the short girl a warm smile. "Let's hear it, Carter." Wendy turned to face the squad. They all stared at her, eagerly awaiting. Erin and Angie looked confused because she certainly hadn't shared any ideas with them.

Wendy clapped her hands together. "My idea is risky. It's original, it's jaw-dropping, and it's unlike anything we've ever done before." And just like that, she had them hooked. The squad exchanged looks and whispers, their lips curling into excited grins.

"Is this idea going to make the principal have words with me?" Mrs. Wayland asked, furrowing her brow.

Wendy had never felt as powerful as she did when she replied, "If we pull this off right, we'll leave them speechless."


	23. intermission!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "how had her life turned into this?"

It took two days for the symptoms of withdrawal to hit her.

She missed cuddling. And kissing. And feeling special, like she was the one person who could make him smile like that, laugh like that, blush like that. She poured her energy into schoolwork and her extracurriculars. She spent more time out of her room and with her parents. She started doing her homework at the kitchen table. Nights she would've spent with Spider-Man in her room she spent curled up on the couch with her mom and dad watching cheesy sitcoms and bad horror movies.

Every bit of pain went into her cheer routine. Every time her eyes watered or her heart hurt, she'd hit play on the song and dance her heart out. Her parents kept saying things like how proud of her they were and how much they loved her. She'd finish the routine and collapse on the living room floor in a heap of tired limbs and sweat and moments later her mom would appear beside her with a cup of tea and a forehead kiss. She'd put away the last dish and her dad would be there to pull her into a hug and call her 'peaches.'

The night before the pep rally, her Aunt Sharon came to dinner.

"How's the self-defense training going?" Sharon asked before taking a long sip of red wine. They always kept a bottle around just for her. Her mom was a fan of white wine and her dad tried not to drink, but when he did, he favored scotch. When Wendy was little, she used to have a matching glass full of grape juice so she could feel as fancy as Aunt Sharon. 

Wendy shrugged. "Good. I was surprised by how much my ballet training has come in handy, but I guess it makes sense. And I love my instructor."

"That's good to hear," Aunt Sharon sighed, her shoulders sagging with visible relief. "I heard about Colleen from a friend of a friend - I'm glad she's working out."

"She's awesome," Wendy gushed. She'd expected to hate her self-defense classes, but she hadn't given her aunt enough credit. Sharon had picked possibly the coolest instructor in the entirety of New York - Colleen Wing. Colleen wasn't that much older than Wendy and she was so incredibly badass. She'd started their first lesson by knocking Wendy on her ass and telling her she'd have to do a lot better than that.

So Wendy did.

"How's school been?" Sharon pressed. She took a bite of her salad. As long as Wendy could remember, her aunt was a vegetarian. As much as Wendy loved animals, she could never give up burgers or steak or beef tacos or chicken fingers. She had a pescatarian phase in middle school, but it lasted all of a week and ended with her scarfing down so many chicken nuggets at Erin's birthday party that she'd made herself sick.

Wendy shrugged again. "Alright. It's pretty much the same as always, but I'm putting in extra work for cheer. We have our pep rally tomorrow and I had to come up with our second routine. I think it turned pretty good."

"She's been practicing nonstop in the living room," her dad teased, slicing apart his salmon with the outer tine of his fork. "I swear, her sweat is gonna ruin our floor."

"It looks good though," Mom added. Her hair was down for once and the dining room chandelier illuminated her natural highlights. "Your hard work was definitely not misplaced, peaches."

Wendy couldn't remember why they called her 'peaches.' It'd just always been a thing. All her clothing and school supplies used to have peaches on it. She'd plaster peach stickers everywhere she could. To this day, she used the 'Pretty as a Peach' scent from Bath and Body Works.

Sharon side-eyed Wendy like she knew all her secrets. "Any boys? Or girls?"

"Neither," Wendy answered quickly - too quickly. She cleared her throat and repeated, "Neither. Ever since I made my statement, it's like I'm cursed. No one wants to touch me."

_Well, no one except my long-time rival, apparently._

And just like that, the symptoms of withdrawal were back. She glanced at her bedroom door, her mind flooded with used to happen on the other side. Her mind flooded with Peter. Peter's lips on hers and Peter's skin on hers and Peter's hands in hers and Peter's smile and hers and Peter's laugh and hers. Her skin was tingling, her lungs suddenly devoid of oxygen. She excused herself to the bathroom.

She splashed some cold water on her face - she hadn't bothered with makeup tonight, so that wasn't something she had to worry about. She rubbed her face like massaging the water droplets into her skin would solve all her problems. She looked in the mirror and was suddenly enveloped in a night not too long ago when she stood in a bathroom like this with a wet face and a heavy heart only for her whirring thoughts to be interrupted by a knock at the door-

Knuckles rapped on wood. "Peaches? You okay in there?"

Wendy opened the door like she had on that night not too long ago. Except, on this night, on the other side of the door wasn't Peter Parker aka Spider-Man aka the boy plaguing her mind. It was her dad, looking just as concerned as Peter had.

Peter. How had her life turned into this? Peter this and Peter that and Peter Peter Peter. This was not who she was. Her gaze shifted from her dad to her Aunt Sharon, whose eyes held a sort of wisdom Wendy could only hope to one day understand.

She was Wendy Carter-Greene. She was so much more than some boy or some heartbreak.

She shook her head like she was clearing cobwebs. "Yeah, Dad, I'm good. Just a little dizzy."

"Go lay down, peaches," her mom instructed from the dining room table. "I'll come check on you in a bit, make sure you're not sick."

Aunt Sharon's eyes were glassy now. "Yeah, kid, get some rest. You've earned it."


	24. pep rally!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "it was now or never."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i hate this chapter

She really didn't think this through.

Well, she did, but not with a rational mind. She was angry and hurt. She'd needed an outlet and she made a rash decision. This was going to be a disaster. She could already hear her peers laughing. She was so in her own head she almost (almost) messed up their first routine. She even almost forgot to zip up her jacket and put on her pants during their costume change - a first for them. This was all a first for them and it was all Wendy's fault if it went sour.

Which, of course, it would, because when was the last time something worked out in her favor?

They filed out of the locker rooms, clad in white tracksuits. No one paid too much attention to them, too busy watching a select few kids attempt to hit the principal with a creampie. Hardly anyone noticed Flash setting up his DJ station in the back. No one caught Mrs. Wayland passing Wendy a mic. No one could hear Wendy's heart beating erratically in her chest, pushing against her ribcage with a ferocity that left her whole body sore.

Cheer captain Lydia Brant stood at the front as the others took their positions on the mat. Everyone but Lydia faced the back wall while she beamed at their audience. Wendy stood in the center of the second row between Erin and Angie, who gave her twin comforting smiles. The air was thick and the crowd was quiet.

Lydia brought her pom-poms together, shook them wildly, then raised one arm into the air. "Give me an S!"

The rest of the cheer squad whipped around and formed an S with their arms. "S!"

"Give me a U!"

"U!"

At that moment, Wendy took back everything she'd ever said about her being smart. She was wrong. She was a giant idiot. No wonder Peter Parker always beat her.

"Give me an E!"

"E!"

She thought she might faint. They were running out of letters and fast.

"Give me an M!"

"M!"

She was about to embarrass herself in front of the entire school. She vaguely registered the familiar tune seeping from Flash's speakers and flooding the gymnasium. Holy shit, she'd turned her life into  _High School Musical_. Or worse,  _Glee_. Or even worse,  _Riverdale_.

"Give me an E!"

"E!"

She took a deep breath. She had this. She was Wendy fucking Carter. They weren't going to laugh. They were going to cheer. Right?

"What does that spell?"

"Sue me!"

The entire cheer squad threw their pom poms to the side. The front row split in the middle and parted for Wendy to step through. The intro was ending. It was now or never. They unzipped their jackets to reveal bright red tops. The crowd was confused but loving it. Wolf whistles pierced the air as Wendy glanced at Mrs. Wayland, who granted her two thumbs-up and a mouthed 'You got this.'

The intro ended and Wendy raised the mic to her lips. "Remember when you said that there's no second chance? Well, I heard that you've been hoping you could change the past. You miss the longer nights, you miss the long goodbyes, you miss the longer nights." She fell into the choreography with ease. So many nights of practicing in her living room had served her well; the moves were burned into her muscles.

Wendy's eyes narrowed. "Well did you ever think that it was hard for me? Do I get off like nothing happened nonchalantly? I got you feeling right, I got you feeling like, I got you feeling right." She'd written this song when she was angry, but she wasn't angry anymore. She was tired. She was so goddamn tired of putting on a show all the time.

"That's my shape, I made the shadow!" she sang, slipping her jacket off in sync with her squad. "That's my name, don't wear it out though! Feeling myself can't be illegal, illegal." The jacket was tossed aside just like the pom poms. The crowd hollered. She wondered if her smile looked genuine.

Wendy fought a sigh. "So sue me! For looking so pretty tonight, wearing your favorite color under the lights, for moving on, doing everything right. So sue me!" Perfectly executed body roll. Her audience was losing their shit and she tried to feed off their energy, but she felt like all that was holding her together was old gum and fraying thread.

"For being good friends with your friends, for running into you the place that we met, for being something you can't forget," she crooned. "So sue me." She let her hair down and shook it out, much to the crowd's joy. This should've felt like magic or electricity. It should've felt fun. Instead, it was taxing. Wendy was exhausted from constantly acting like she was okay.

"I know it's hard to see me on when you've been off as hell, but I'm not gonna dull myself because you dull yourself." She was not okay. She was traumatized and heartbroken and so unbelievably confused about how she felt about Peter Parker. She'd tried to use Spi-Peter as a therapist but it was the equivalent of slapping a band-aid on a gaping wound. "I know it's hard to see what you don't want to see, I know it's hard to see. That's my shape, I made the shadow, that's my name, don't wear it out though. Feeling myself can't be illegal, illegal!"

And back into the chorus. They fell to the floor and effortlessly kicked off their pants, revealing the rest of the red bodysuit. The bodysuits had all been sewn by Lydia herself, who usually used her sewing skills to make the perfect clothes for every occasion. Flame-resistant and stain-resistant clothes for experimenting in the lab, breathable and comfortable athletic gear, to hot dresses that can be turned into a jumpsuit or romper or shorts and a top, because "Why buy one look when you can buy four at once?"

The kids of Midtown were truly the future.

These bodysuits were form-fitting, but school appropriate and looked nice on everyone. Wendy was sure Lydia made a living off of prom season considering everyone begged her to make their dresses. A Lydia Brant original meant more to her classmates than Louis Vuitton or Gucci. Just another reason the Brant sisters were Midtown royalty.

Wendy rose from the floor, surging forward to walk in front of the bleachers. "I guess I'm hard to ignore." She looked up and found Peter in the crowd. They locked gazes as she sang, "Pick up that jaw off the floor."

She thought looking Peter in the eyes and singing lyrics she'd written as a giant middle finger to him might give her some sense of triumph or empowerment, but any semblance of happiness drained from her body in that moment of looking into his eyes. Because he was sad. He was just as miserable as her. He wasn't an idiot. He knew how badly he fucked up. She didn't need to sing it out in front of the entire school. He knew and he was hurting just as much. They were both heartbroken.

She finished the song, unable to tear her eyes from him until Lydia pulled her into a warm hug and the thunderous applause finally wormed its way into her ears. Wendy felt rather ill. She passed the mic to Lydia with a shaky smile and excused herself to the locker room.

Once the door had shut behind her, she let the tears that had been building up in her eyes finally fall. She stumbled over to a bench and sat down with her head in her hands. A sob pushed past her lips, no longer content to be pushed down or stifled. The bottle she'd stuffed all her emotions into was cracking from the pressure.

She heard the door open and close.

"Wendy?" Angie's voice sounded. "Hey, you okay?"

"No," Wendy admitted, her shoulders sagging. She shook like a house frame in a tornado. "I'm not okay. It was bearable when I had him - he just understood. But now he's gone and I miss him and everything hurts all the time."

Erin kneeled down beside Wendy and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Was he a cure or a distraction?"

"I don't know," Wendy sobbed, "but he helped it not hurt but now it does nothing but hurt all the goddamn time. I'm hurting constantly and I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired."

Angie sighed. "Don't worry, baby girl. You got us. Maybe we can't help the way he did, but we're here for you and we will fight tooth and nail to make everything okay."

Wendy laughed. "What would I do without you guys?"

"Crash and burn," Erin chuckled. "Crash and burn."


	25. drama!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she was fraying."

Wendy tried to avoid Peter at all cost.

Not just because she was heartbroken - which she definitely was - but because she felt guilty. The rumors had started up again.  _Wendy's song was about Spider-Man. Apparently, they broke up. No, it was about Peter. Everyone knows Peter's in love with Wendy. Yeah, she looked right at him while she was singing! But red is such a Spider-Man color. What if Peter is Spider-Man? Shut up, you're an idiot._

Shit like that.

Every whisper made her tense up even further. What if someone did figure out Peter's secret identity? It'd be all her fault. She couldn't handle that right now. She was fraying. Her mom was looking for a therapist for her, but who knew how long that would take? And would the therapist even be the right one? Margot and Liz said it was hard to find the therapist that clicks - it'd taken Margot four therapists, and Liz was still searching. "It's a lottery," Margot had sighed.

Wendy didn't have the emotional capacity for a lottery.

She took a peek at Liz's worksheet to see how she solved the problem. Liz glanced at her with a weird look in her eyes. "So, did you get a date to homecoming?"

"No," Wendy said. "The girls and I are just gonna go as a group. I got asked by someone, but it was a total pity ask,  so I said no. You?" Liz played with the corner of her paper. She only did that when she was nervous.

Liz sighed and leaned back in the couch. "You're gonna hate me." They sat in the library, doing their homework together while eating lunch.

"Liz, it is impossible to hate you," Wendy laughed. "I'm physically incapable of it. Everyone is." It was ostensibly true. Liz was adored by all. There was never a single malicious rumor spread about her. Wendy had five malicious rumors spread about her in her first week at Midtown.

"Just-just don't judge me, okay?" Liz pleaded, laying a hand on Wendy's arm. "Okay, so Peter asked me to go with him and I said yes."

Wendy froze. "Peter? Peter Parker?" Liz nodded her confirmation. Wendy briefly wondered if this was what dying felt like. Peter Parker, her ex-boyfriend, asked one of her best friends to homecoming. She could feel the tears coming but she couldn't let them show. If she cried, Liz would ask questions, and Wendy was not about to share Peter's alter ego with yet another person.

"We're just going as friends," Liz said hastily. "It's not a romantic thing whatsoever. At least, I think it's not. I know you hate him, but I mean, he's cute, right? And he is nice-"

"I need to use the bathroom," Wendy interjected. She grabbed all her stuff and practically ran to the nearest bathroom. Tears streamed down her face as she launched herself into a stall and locked the door behind her. Fuck, she was so sick of crying. Her first heartbreak was so not worth her first kiss/boyfriend. Like, Peter was hot and sweet and amazing and all, but if she ruined her makeup one more time, she was going to invent that memory wiper thing from Men in Black.

A groan left her as she left the stall. Her makeup wasn't too badly damaged. She sniffled and ran her fingers through her hair. Just-finished-sobbing was kind of a look. The door opened and before she could duck back into the stall at lightning speed, Peter Parker was walking into the girls' bathroom, looking concerned.

She glowered at him. "Can I help you?"

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Nevermind. That's a stupid question. I'm-"

"Liz?" she interrupted, moving towards him. "Of all people, you had to ask Liz to homecoming? She's one of my best friends-"

Peter cut her off with, "She's one of mine too! And I asked you and you said no-"

"Because you lied to me-"

"I tried to tell you the truth and you wouldn't let me-"

"Oh, so this is all my fault?

"No, that's not what I'm saying! I'm just saying I'm not the only one to blame! I tried to end things before they got started-"

"You should've just told me then and there!"

"And what would you have done? Would you have told everyone? Used it against me?"

Wendy paused. What would she have done if Peter had told he was Spider-Man after their first kiss? She certainly wouldn't've been like, "Cool, let's make out now." Would she have used it against him? Maybe. Or laughed right in his face.

Peter's face was bright red, his eyes glassy. "It doesn't justify what I did. Nothing does. And I'm so, so sorry about everything. But I'm not the only responsible party." Wendy was crying again. He was right and she knew that all too well. She'd stayed up most nights since the breakup listing all the things she'd chosen to ignore, all the times she shut him down in favor of her feeling him up. They were equally guilty.

Ugh, this was just so confusing. She couldn't decode her emotions anymore. She'd once been so in tune with them and now it was like they were a different language she had yet to learn. She missed the days when she knew what she wanted. She missed when simply existing wasn't so painful. She missed-

Wait, when did she start kissing Peter?

But she was kissing him. She was pushing him up against the wall, her fists curled up in the fabric of his t-shirt, her body pressed against his. Their lips moved in sync. They hadn't been together long but there was so much kissing - they knew each other well. His hands were in her hair, his nails scratching lightly against her scalp. They kissed until they were out of breath.

She stepped back to examine her handiwork. Peter was panting, trying desperately to regain some oxygen. His lips were plump and swollen. His shirt was all wrinkled and his eyes were wide and clouded. God, he looked good. She almost went back in for another taste when she remembered that they were in the girls' bathroom and also very much not together anymore.

"Have fun at homecoming with Liz," she sniped before picking her backpack up off the floor and sweeping out of the bathroom like a hurricane.

Flash Thompson later claimed he witnessed a ruffled Peter Parker leaving the girls' bathroom and promptly entering the boys' bathroom, but no one believed him.


	26. party bus!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the bus was silent for a moment."

Yes, she was wearing red.

She had picked the dress out before she and Peter had broken up and fuck, was it cute. What, was she just not gonna wear it even though it looked fantastic on her? Fuck that. Wendy was not letting stupid Peter Parker dictate her decisions anymore. Stupid Peter Parker and his stupid delicious lips and his stupid pretty face and his stupid everything. She huffed as she ran her brush through her hair for the nth time (she'd lost count around stroke 67.)

She hadn't done anything too special. Her hair was down. She'd done her normal makeup just with some shimmery nude colors on her eyes and heavier highlighter. She rubbed red tint on her lips and got into her dress. It was off the shoulders, which was finally allowed to school dances after lots of protesting and complaining. She clipped her black velvet choker around her neck and added a thin silver chain weighed down by a simple circle pendant with crossed arrows on it - a gift from Erin during her  _Hunger Games_  phase. It was the same necklace she'd worn when she performed in the sixth-grade talent show and the Peter Parker thing began.

She went to take it off, hesitated, and left it on.

She stepped into simple black heels. Most people hated wearing heels, but Wendy was an exception. She was so short that wearing heels didn't even bring her up to average height. Still, it brought her up by a few inches, which was better than nothing. She stuck her phone, cash, keys, and any makeup she wanted to bring along into a little black bag her mom had insisted she use. She spritzed herself with her favorite body mist, 'Pretty as a Peach.'

When she finally left her room, her mom insisted on a whole photoshoot. Luckily, Wendy had accounted for such a thing, so it only put her three minutes behind. The party bus she and her friends had rented picked up her at her front door. Angie and Margot were sat in the back, Angie trying to do Margot's makeup. Erin was saying something to Ned about quantum physics. Wendy took the seat next to MJ, who was eyeing the stripper pole with distaste. Erin had been unable to find a party bus that didn't have a stripper pole installed, so they were stuck with it.

The bass was so loud that it took control of Wendy's heartbeat. She glanced to the front. The bus driver was in a separate cab so they couldn't hear what was going on in the bus. She wandered over to the drinks station, where the driver had supplied soda and Erin had stashed small bottles of booze. Wendy poured herself a plastic red cup of diet coke with a splash of rum. She kicked off her heels and approached the pole.

"Gonna give us a show?" MJ asked, smirking slightly.

Wendy sipped her drink. "You know, in my self-defense classes, I've been training with a bo staff." She wrapped her hand around the top of the pole and absent-mindedly spun around the pole, eyes closed and her head thrown back.

"Are you high?" Angie questioned.

"Nope," Wendy replied. She drained her cup and tossed it in the trash with a flick of her wrist. "I'm just trying to think about anything but the fact that my ex is taking one of my best friends to homecoming. You know, no big deal."

Margot sighed. "Wen, I thought we agreed no Peter talk tonight."

"You guys have Peter talk?"

The girls turned to look at Ned, who they'd forgotten was on the bus too. Wendy turned bright red. Well shit. Now Peter's best friend knew they talked about Peter.

Heart pounding, she blurted, "Who's Peter?" Erin groaned and rolled her eyes. MJ chuckled at Wendy's misfortune. Margot and Angie shook their heads in disappointment. Ned looked around the bus like he wasn't sure what just happened and he had to check with everyone else to make sure it had indeed happened and he wasn't just imagining it. Wendy readjusted her grip on the pole, remembering sparring with Colleen and making jokes about learning how to 'work the pole.' Sparring with Colleen was one of the only times she didn't think about Peter.

Stupid Peter.

"He'd kill me for telling you this, but he never shuts up about you," Ned dished. Wendy was suddenly at attention, a strange look on her face. Ned figured this was a sign to continue and added, "He's been obsessed with you since sixth grade. It's actually really annoying. It's Wendy this, Wendy that. He really misses you. He's like, totally heartbroken."

MJ sat up. "You know."

Margot frowned. "Know what?" Wendy exchanged looks with MJ and Erin. Margot had to be the dumbest genius she'd ever met.

"You know Peter's Spider-Man," Erin said in a hushed tone as if the driver had a chance of hearing them over the thundering music. "I mean, of course you know. You're his best friend."

Ned's jaw dropped. "You all know?"

"Duh, we're geniuses," Angie remarked. She snuck a look at Wendy and added, "and Wendy said Spidey and Peter kiss the same. But mostly the genius part." Ned did a double-take. Wendy winced. She hadn't meant to tell her friends Peter's secret. She'd tried to keep it from them, but they weren't idiots, even if Margot had her moments. The second she'd told them she and Spidey broke up, Angie had gone, "Oh, because he's Peter?"

Ned furrowed his brow. "Wait, when did you kiss Peter as Peter?" With those words, every girl on the bus choked on air. Peter didn't tell Ned about the bathroom kiss. Well, bathroom kisses.

Wendy forced a laugh. "Uh, in one of the bathrooms at Liz's party because of the dare. And then two days ago in the girls' bathroom in the 200 hallway." Angie shrieked indignantly. Wendy had uh, forgotten to mention that particular makeout session. And by forgotten, it was more like she neglected to tell them about it because she knew what they'd say, which was-

"Really? After everything?" Erin.

"Dude, I thought you were better than that." MJ.

"Why the girls' bathroom of all places?" Margot.

"That's both disgusting and romantic." Angie.

Ned scowled. "Peter didn't tell me about that!"

"Okay, in my defense, it was my lowest moment so I really didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about," Wendy said hastily, "and in Peter's defense, fuck him. I recognize that's not really a defense to which I say I'm mad at him and therefore I had no intention of actually defending him." The bus was silent for a moment. Erin downed the rest of her drink.

Margot scoffed. "Wow. We're a bunch of fucking disasters aren't we?"

"Duh," Erin retorted. "We're teenagers."


	27. homecoming!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "spider-man, she'd told herself, she could lose. but she couldn't."

Wendy stepped into the gym and instantly wished she could go home.

It was decorated beautifully. The homecoming committee had truly gone all out.  Large stars hung from the rafters. Multicolored lights swept over the room. String lights covered the walls. A DJ was set up on a makeshift stage in the back of the room, the music booming through giant speakers. Everyone was dressed nicely. Chaperones milled about to keep things in check, completely missing the sneaky exchanges of flasks. It was picturesque, in a way. Like a scene right out of John Hughes movie.

Wendy used to dream about scenes like this, but they didn't feel right anymore. Instead of seeing a wholesome school dance, she saw a potential new crime scene. Kids were drinking and they were only limited by the amount they'd brought. That meant people were gonna get drunk. Wendy didn't like drunk people. She never really did - drunk family and friends were one thing, but drunk strangers had always left a bad taste in her mouth. When she saw drunk teenagers, she used to think about drunk driving statistics.

Now she was sorting based on whether or not she thought they were capable of hurting someone.

She gritted her teeth. This was the exact kind of shit she needed to talk through with a therapist, but who knows how long it would take for her to find one? How long would these thoughts sit in her head, poison her brain and corrupt her actions? Erin dropped a hand down onto her shoulder and guided her gently to a table where they could put their stuff down. Once they were settled in, Ned, MJ, Angie, and Erin headed to the dance floor, leaving behind Margot and Wendy.

"You're not gonna dance?" Wendy asked.

Margot poked her arm. _"You're_  not gonna dance?"

The blonde chuckled softly and shook her head. "Not in the mood." They lapsed into momentary silence. Margot sipped from a cup of punch she'd grabbed on the way in. Wendy tried to focus on the lyrics of the song playing. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Whatever it was, it was nice.

"When was the last time you danced for fun?" Margot inquired, squinting at her tiny friend from behind thick frames. Wendy opened her mouth to answer only to realize she didn't know. The last time she'd danced was the pep rally, but that wasn't for fun. That was for revenge.

Instead, she questioned, "What song is this?"

"Up and Up by Lennon and Maisy," Margot answered. She extended a hand. "Dance with me?" Wendy grinned and took Margot's hand. They found their other friends on the dance floor. At first, Wendy just bopped. She wasn't sure what to do with her body. She hadn't been in control of it ever since that night. She was always following something - panic, lust, a set routine. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. The song changed to something she knew she knew - Breathe In Breathe Out by Mat Kearney.

She sighed. No more following.

She let the music take hold. She'd done a routine to this song in freshman year. She tried not to fall into that routine. She made it up on the spot. She was being extra, she knew. Everyone else was headbanging at most and here she was, pirouetting in the middle of the dance floor. She'd traded her heels for socks back at the table and she was thankful now as she danced on her tiptoes just like she'd learned.

Her peers made a space for her as she whirled and twisted across the gym floor. The moves came naturally now. The dance for Sue Me had been bitter and angry. This was honest. It reminded Wendy of how she'd gotten where she was. Since she was a little girl, she was fascinated by how the brain worked. She could still vividly recall the day her 3rd-grade music teacher told them about how music affects their brain chemistry. That was the start of all of it.

No, Peggy was. Peggy, who told stories about the scientific discoveries she'd seen, who was the first adult to be open and honest about their emotions in front of her. Aunt Peggy was the start of everything. Not Mr. Hanford. Not stupid Peter Parker or that stupid talent show or that bet. Everything she was was because of her Aunt Peggy.

The song drew to a close and she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Everything was because of Peggy. Peggy, who was dead. She was dead and she wasn't coming back. Wendy would never get to tell her about Peter Parker, about coming to terms with her feelings, about furthering her research, about all the cool things she'd learned in school, about realizing that she'd known the entire fucking time that Peter was Spider-Man. 

She'd known since he opened his mouth that night - dumbass didn't even bother to disguise his voice. She'd known and she'd lied to herself because Spider-Man, she could like and grow to love. Peter was her archnemesis. That couldn't change, not after she'd already been through so much change. She'd already lost her Aunt Peggy, she couldn't lose anyone else and dating Peter ran the risk of losing Peter. Spider-Man, she'd told herself, she could lose.

Except she couldn't.

Wendy's friends were surrounding her and talking, but none of it went through. They were sitting at the table now. When did that happen? Angie was shoving a cup of punch into her hand. Wendy took it and downed the drink. Her ears popped. She realized she was crying. She shook her head, set down her cup, and took a deep breath.

She lost Peggy forever. There was no getting her back. But she could get Peter back. Peter wasn't gone forever. She didn't have to lose him too.

She looked to the dance floor and immediately spotted Peter and Liz. Liz was wearing red. She looked amazing. Wendy's eye twitched. Peter wore the traditional suit and tie, a white flower clipped to his lapel. She could tell he gelled his hair down. She could just imagine running her fingers through it, messing it up while he grumbled under his breath and fought to keep the corners of his lips turned down. He looked beautiful. Wendy's heart fluttered. Huh. She didn't know her heart could do that. 

Her gaze met Peter's. They stared at each other for a little while. His gaze flickered back to Liz, who - holy shit, Liz was leaning in for a kiss! He turned and ran out of the gym. Liz's jaw dropped and her brow furrowed. Wendy jumped up from her seat, still a little wobbly, and hurried over to Liz, ignoring her friends' calls.

Liz scowled. "Wow, Wen. You were right. Peter Parker is an asshole. I really thought-"

"No, he's not," Wendy cut in. "I was wrong, Liz, the entire time. The truth is, I was never dating Spider-Man. I lied. I was dating Peter and I used Spider-Man as a cover and we broke up and that's why he ran because we still have feelings for each other." Liz was silent for a moment. She looked deep into Wendy's eyes as if she was searching the night sky for a particular constellation. They didn't even notice Ned leaving.

The dark-skinned girl's lips curled into a soft smile. "Then what are you waiting for? Go get the guy."

Wendy beamed and, after a quick hug, swept out of the gym with a goal in mind.


	28. you move!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "he clearly hadn't expected a 5'3" (in heels) blonde to interject his battle with spider-man."

Wendy eventually found Peter outside and he wasn't alone.

It wasn't too hard to find him. She just followed the sound of breaking glass and general destruction. She was fast, even in heels. She weaved her way through the graveyard of school buses until - yep, there he was. Peter was back in the homemade suit. She wished she knew why. Not that it mattered right now when he was crumpled on the ground, about to be killed.

There was a dark-skinned man bragging, some kind of weapon that glowed on his hand like a superpowered glove. She wasn't sure what it did and she didn't particularly want to find out. With no better plan in mind, she threw herself in between the pair. The man did a double-take. He clearly hadn't expected a 5'3" (in heels) blonde to interject his battle with Spider-Man.

"Move out of the way, little girl!" the man ordered. The most valuable life lesson she'd ever received and ever would receive replayed in her head.  _Where you can compromise, compromise. Where you can't, don't. Even if the whole world is telling you to move. Plant your feet and say-_

Wendy crossed her arms over her chest. "No, you move." She faintly heard Peter swear under his breath. She continued, "Preferably back to where you came from, though I would appreciate you hauling your ass to the police station." There was a pause. Whoever this guy was, he had no idea how to handle her. Well, no one really knew how to handle a Carter.

He growled, "Who the hell do you think you are?" She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. A smirk curled her lips. She couldn't bring her Aunt Peggy back but she could still make her proud.

"I'm Wendy fucking Carter, bitch," she spat, "and I'm one hell of a distraction."

A web shot out and attached itself to the glowy thing. Ned stood behind the man with a web shooter in hand. Wendy grinned at him. That was her friend! He did that!

"Nice shot!" Peter called out. She threw herself to the side so Peter could grab hold of the web. He used it to yank the glove off the man's hand. She ran around to where Ned stood as Peter reclaimed his web shooter and launched a web at the guy, pinning him to the side of the bus.

Peter fist-pumped the air. "Yes!" He sprinted over to them. "The guy with the wings is Liz's dad."

"What?" Ned and Wendy exclaimed in unison. Peter had mentioned the guy with the wings - he'd been tracking him since Liz's party. Wendy shook her head slightly in confusion. She had met Liz's dad on several occasions. He seemed like a nice guy. He couldn't be the bad guy Peter had been after all this time.

"I know, I gotta tell Mr. Stark," Peter said. "Wendy-"

She cut him off by yanking him forward and tugging his mask up. She cupped his cheeks as she pressed her lips to his, praying what she was trying to say would translate. She pulled away. "Do whatever you have to do. Just come back to me in one piece, okay?"

He smiled so softly her heart melted. "Of course, darling." He laid a hand on her bare shoulder and she stepped aside so he could see Ned. His hand didn't leave as he instructed, "Call Happy Hogan. He's Mr. Stark's head of security. And uh, get a computer and track my phone for me!" He raised his hand to shoot a web.

"Peter, wait!" Wendy practically screamed. He turned back to her, frowning. She pulled him back in for another quick kiss. She fixed his mask and took a step back. "Okay, now you can go. Just - for good luck." 

He nodded and zipped away, yelling, "Hurry, we gotta catch him before he leaves town!"

For a moment, there was silence. She turned to look at Ned and quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Took you two long enough," he teased.

She scowled. "Oh, shut up. Don't you have something to hack?"

His smirk fell. "Oh shit!" He ran back into the school, moving faster than she'd ever seen him go. She took a deep breath and followed him back inside, going at her own pace. Her brain was buzzing - not that that was actually possible. In reality, her synapses were firing and her brain was winding down after releasing copious amounts of oxytocin.

She walked back into the gym and was instantly swarmed by her friends. She knew they were concerned for her -  she'd danced, then cried, shut down, and ran off.

"So?" Liz asked. "Did you get the guy?"

Wendy laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I got the guy." Her friends cheered and took turns hugging her. They begged her to tell them everything, but there was only one person she really wanted to talk to.

"Where did Peter and Ned go?" MJ questioned.

"Peter got called in by Tony Stark and Ned's helping him," Wendy answered, waving her hand dismissively. Her friends who knew nodded in understanding, knowing perfectly well what she actually meant. She moved past them to grab her things.

Angie frowned. "Where are you going?"

Wendy spared her friends a final, timid grin. "I have someone I need to talk to."

With that, she left. 


	29. the end!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "it'd been a long night. but a good one."

Wendy smirked as she walked up to the memorial. "You just had to be buried in London, huh?"

The statue of her Aunt Peggy was always a comforting sight. She laid the bouquet of roses (as red as her signature lipstick) she'd bought on the way onto the platform and ran her fingers over the grooves in the plaque. 'In honor of Agent Peggy Carter, who fought for our country in World War II and inspired generations of little girls. 1921-2016'

"It's okay, I can make this work," Wendy said with a soft chuckle. She sat down in front of the statue and, just like she did her entire life, looked up to her Aunt Peggy. "We haven't talked in a while. I have so much to tell you. Uh, so, I was hurt by these guys and for so long I kept it to myself, but I finally spoke out and I thought it would make everything better but it's not. But I don't want to talk about bad things. Not tonight."

She shifted and pulled her phone from her pocketbook. She unlocked her phone and brought up Instagram. She tapped on Peter's account and held it up for Peggy to see. "Remember Peter, the boy I used to always complain about? We started dating and I like him so much."

"And I was trying to deny it because I was scared," she continued. "I've been scared since Mom broke the news that you died. I knew as long as I had you I was safe and then you were gone and I've been so scared, Aunt Peggy. I didn't want anything to change. I didn't know who I was without you. I keep saying to myself, I'm Wendy Carter like I'm trying to remind myself who I am and it wasn't until tonight that I had this epiphany."

She wiped tears from her eyes. "I've been holding myself back because I'm terrified of change. But change isn't bad. Change brought me Peter and Colleen, and the knowledge that even though you're gone, I'm okay. I'm okay, Aunt Peggy. I'm not always going to be. That's not how life works. But when I'm not okay, I still have you in the back of my mind. And maybe that's the summary. Even though you're gone, you're not. You live on in our minds. I carry you with me every day in my heart."

"You're dead but you're not gone," Wendy stated, a small grin playing on her lips. "And I want to thank you for everything you've taught me. I'd be nothing without you, but I'm not nothing without you. Does that make sense? I'm babbling." She giggled to herself and stood up. She felt so much lighter than she had when she first sat down. Talking to her Aunt Peggy always made her feel better.

"I love you, Aunt Peggy," she whispered. "I wish I could say it to your face, but this is the best I'm gonna get and I just have to accept that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go home, get in my pajamas, and wait for my superhero boyfriend to come to my window."

She blew the statue a kiss and headed home. Her parents were sat on the couch, her mom reading some medical journal while her dad did some paperwork. They didn't question why she was back so early, just bid her a "Goodnight sweetheart!" as she walked past. As soon as she was in her room, the door locked behind her, she stripped off her dress and pulled on fuzzy Captain America-themed pajamas she'd gotten for Christmas last year. She tied her hair up in a loose bun and set to work taking off her makeup.

An hour later, she was sat on her bed with her computer on her lap, typing furiously. She needed something to distract her while she waited for Peter, so she'd taken to doing her homework. She was starting to wonder if Peter was dead when she heard a knock at her window. She jumped up, tossing her laptop to the side, and ran over to the window. There, on her fire escape, was a bruised and singed Peter. Her heart dropped. She rushed to unlock her window and move it up. She pushed the screen out of the way and helped him climb inside.

They sat side-by-side on the foot of her bed. It wasn't an unfamiliar position for them. They'd been there many times before, but he'd been a lot less injured and in a different suit and she'd been lying to herself. It seemed like ages ago now - in actuality, it'd been two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks without her Peter Pan. She never thought herself to be the sappy type, but now here she was, heart aching at the memory of being apart from Peter.

"You kept your word," she breathed out, lips pulled back into a wide grin. "You came back to me in one piece."

Just like that, he started crying. He collapsed into her. She wrapped her arms around him. He tucked his head under her chin, his lips ghosting her collarbone. A chill ran down her spine. This was new - not the cuddling. She'd missed this affection, this warmth. Her holding him while he cried. Usually, it was the other way around. She didn't mind this change. Even if she didn't owe him some cry-cuddles, she liked being this close to him.

"He...the building caved in on me," Peter sniffled. Wendy froze. "I was trapped under the rubble. I thought...I thought I would never get out. I thought I'd never see you or Ned or Aunt May or Mr. Stark ever again. I was so scared. I couldn't breathe."

"But you got out," Wendy said quietly.

Peter nodded slowly. "I got out. And we fought and...God, Wendy. The plane crashed and there was so much fire - he almost died! I saved him. Even after everything he did. What if he hurts more people? Does that make me a bad person?"

"What?" Wendy exclaimed. She pulled away and tilted Peter's chin up. Their eyes met, his still brimming with tears. "Peter, that doesn't make you a bad person at all. That makes you the most amazing person ever. The fact that you can see the good in the bad, see the human being in the villain, that makes you the best hero of all."

"He just wanted to provide for his family," Peter explained, shifting. "He...Does that make him a bad person? Because he wanted to put food on the table?"

"Peter, I don't think either of us is really in the right headspace for a philosophical debate," she chuckled. "Especially because I really don't think I have any say. I've never known what it's like to struggle financially, you know? I've always been really lucky that way. Maybe I didn't see my parents as much as other kids did growing up, but I never really worried about food or being able to afford school supplies."

It was Peter's turn to chuckle now. "Benefits of having a doctor mom and bigshot CEO dad."

"How did you know my dad got a promotion?" she asked. He bit his bottom lip (not that he had much of them, she'd teased him about them many times before) and pulled her into his lap. He wasn't crying anymore. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Michelle mentioned," he mumbled, nuzzling her neck. "I might've asked how you were doing." His lips grazed a ticklish spot and a giggle escaped her. He pulled back with a goofy smile on his face.

She tapped his nose. "You asked about me?" His face turned bright red. She laughed. She cupped his cheeks in his hands and pulled him closer, leaning in. Their lips were centimeters apart when he jerked away.

"I can't do this Wendy," he sighed, getting up from the bed. "I can't be with you when you don't like me. You don't like me! You like Spider-Man!"

Wendy jumped up and grabbed Peter by the shoulders, much like he had the day he told her he was Spidey. She leaned in. "Pete, I don't know how to break this to you, but...you  _are_  Spider-Man."

He scoffed as laughter bubbled from her lips, her hands falling to take his. "Peter, I like you. Spider-Man was just a way I could like you without risking losing you, or, at least, I thought it was, but it wasn't. Everything with Spider-Man taught me that I can't lose you in any shape or form. And I can't be without you, either. I like you so much and I want to be with you. I didn't want anything in my life to change after losing Peggy but you taught me that as terrifying change is, it can be so amazing."

She stepped closer to him as she wrapped his arms around her waist. "You are so amazing." He smiled down at her in a way she'd never seen before. The look in his eyes...he got the same look in his eyes when he talked about science.

Without a second thought, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. His arms tightened around her. She slipped her tongue past his lips. His hands found the hem of her shirt. His fingers twined around the hem and held on like if he let go, she'd slip away and never come back to him. They were running out of breath but they were so hungry for this kind of affection. It'd been so long since they kissed each other knowing they like each other. Wendy had just felt brave enough to press a hand to his abs when-

"Well, this complicates things," her mom commented as her door swung open. Wendy and Peter jumped apart. Wendy's parents stood in her doorway, a makeshift lockpick in her mom's hand. She frowned. "I bet your dad you were dating Peter and he bet me you were dating Spider-Man. Never once considered they were one and the same."

"I guess we both win for a change," her dad said with a slight chuckle.

Peter instantly went into panic mode. "What? I - me and Wendy? No, never, I would - I mean I have the utmost respect for your daughter, but I - Spider-Man? Me? Please don't tell anyone."

Mrs. Carter-Greene laughed. "Relax Peter. We're Carters. We're friends with superheroes. We don't out them." She gave Wendy a knowing look. "We've already had the sex talk, so just be safe if you do decide to have sex."

"Mom!" Wendy shrieked, face burning bright red. "Ugh, you two are so embarrassing! Get out!"

Her dad beamed. "Peaches, that was the first time you ever called us embarrassing. That's going in the milestone book."

"Oh! And first boyfriend and first kiss," her mom reminded him. She had the brightest smile on her face. "Amazing!" Wendy scowled and pushed her parents out the door. She locked it again and shoved a chair under the knob to prevent anyone from opening the door. She could hear them laughing as she jammed the chair into the hardwood. She whipped around to face Peter, who looked like he was having trouble figuring out how to feel.

"Okay, definitely not the way I wanted to meet your parents, but milestone book?" Peter asked, fighting laughter rather poorly. Wendy hoped he fought crime better than he was fighting his laughter right now, otherwise, New York was fucked.

She glared at him. "First of all, need I remind you I've yet to meet your Aunt May? I'm sure she'll have some lovely stories to tell. Secondly, yes, they have a milestone book for me because I was a very sick baby and everyone thought I was gonna die, but I pulled through, so they document my milestones to show how far I've come." The laughter vanished and his face softened. They met in the middle of the room.

"I never knew that," he said quietly.

She shrugged. "It's not really something I advertise." She looked up at him. "It's whatever."

"You're incredible," he whispered. He cupped her face in his hands, the sleeves of his homemade suit brushing her skin. She took a second to admire the way his hair curled around his ears and the way his eyes sparkled like moonlight on the ocean and the way his smile lit up his whole face.

She grinned. "You're amazing." He leaned down and their lips reconnected like a pair of magnets. She didn't think she'd ever get sick of being with him, just like she could never get sick of analyzing brain chemistry and dancing. Being with Peter was like dancing her favorite routine. Even when she was exhausted or out of breath, she never wanted it to end.

"Be my boyfriend," she said the moment they broke apart.

"On one condition," he replied. "You be my girlfriend."

She pretended to think on that, tapping her finger on her chin. After a pause, she sighed and said, "Sorry, but that's a dealbreaker."

He stumbled back, holding his hand to his heart. "You wound me, darling."

"Speaking of wounds, let's get you cleaned up, huh?" she teased, leading him to her en suite. Yes, Wendy was rich enough that both she and her parents could have an en suite. He sat down on the toilet lid as she gathered some medical supplies from her cabinet. She cleaned every cut or scrape with rubbing alcohol, then dressed the wounds as she saw fit. The only injury that really warranted use of her gauze was a slice on his leg.

"I heal pretty fast," he explained. She nodded, sweeping the bandage bits and cotton pads into her garbage can. When she was finally done, they plopped down on her bed.

"Do you want to sleep over?" she asked, looking up at him from her spot on her chest. "I have some pajamas I stole from my dad that you could borrow."

He played with a lock of her hair. "Yeah, I'm too tired to swing home. I'll tell Aunt May I'm staying at Ned's."

"Or you could tell her the truth," she retorted, sitting up slightly to see him better. "It's not a big deal. We're just sleeping. And kissing. We're going to second base at best."

He scoffed. "You mean we're not gonna have sex? Screw that, I'm leaving." There was a beat before they both burst into laughter. She grabbed him a pair of sweatpants she stole from her dad and tossed them behind her for him to put on. She was rummaging through her drawers for a sleep shirt big enough for him when he remarked, "They're a little big, but they fit."

She turned to look at him and holy shit, Peter Parker was half-naked in her bedroom. She'd felt his abs before through his shirt, but seeing them was an entirely different experience. Her brain momentarily stopped working. She bit her bottom lip, eyes sweeping over his body. He was so beautifully fit.

"Wendy? Did you find a shirt?" he questioned, oblivious to the dirty thoughts running through her mind. She blinked and let go of the shirt in her hand that was most definitely big enough to fit him. She briefly considered her options.

She closed her shirt drawer, a pink tint to her cheeks. "No, sorry."

"Oh, okay," he said. He looked down at his discarded Spider-Man suit. "I can sleep shirtless if that's okay with you."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll live." Peter lingered in her bathroom while Wendy went about her nighttime routine, dotting acne cream onto her pimples, massaging moisturizer into her face, and brushing her teeth. She gave Peter the spare toothbrush she kept in her cabinet. When they were finally ready for bed, they crawled under her blankets. They fell into place like they'd done this after their lives: Peter pulled her close to his chest, their legs intertwined, and her head rested on his arm. They were both far too exhausted to actually make out and get to second base as she had said. It'd been a long night.

But a good one.

"Goodnight darling."

"Goodnight Peter Pan."

Definitely a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that concludes darling <3


End file.
